Floral and Fading
by Cyan Rubies
Summary: The transfer student is facing adorable best mates, failing friendships, family histories and attractive Quidditch Team members all at once. Surely, life at Hogwarts could not get any weirder? [OC-insert]
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I only own Rhia and do not earn any profit from writing this.**

 **Rated T for swearing and trigger warnings.**

* * *

 _._

Floral and Fading

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* * *

Prologue; Sweet Nostalgia

* * *

.

I frowned at the parchment that had fallen from my haversack. It lay on the cold hard ground, slightly crumpled and yellowed from age. Picking it up, I recognised the feel of smooth, expensive parchment upon my fingers, before I unfurled it. The handwriting was all too familiar, and it only served to fuel to bittersweet emotions that came from reading it again. It was a letter, dated from nearly a year ago, and it was one of the last I had received.

 _Rhia,_

 _I'm going to be starting my first year school soon. Do you reckon that I'll be good enough to get on the Quidditch team?_  
 _On another note, you haven't been sounding well. Tell me if there's anything wrong, alright?_  
 _I have to go to Diagon Alley with Mother and Father to pick up my school things now. I'll write to you again sooner._

 _Until next time,_  
 _D.M_

I had written back to him, of course, reassuring him that everything was fine.

However, he had never written back, even though he stated that he would. The letter sent waves of nostalgia crashing down on me, reminding me of the times where the only thing I looked forward to each day was the post and the letters from home. His letters had essentially been the only thing that kept me afloat, but when they stopped coming, I began to plummet and drown.

Now that I was back here, I didn't know what to expect.

* * *

Lugging my belongings back home after what seemed to be a dream too good to be true.

Staring at the house before me, I raised my hand as I rapped the door lightly. There was a loud crack as the door opened, and I was met with a familiar house elf.

Pattie had long since served my family. She frowned while looking up at me, her nose even sniffling a bit.

"Young Mistress certainly looks as unruly as she did the last time she came to visit." Pattie half-lectured as I walked through the door. Compliantly, my hand made its way to my hair and I quickly retied it into a neater ponytail.

"Hello, Pattie. Has Mom come home yet?" I asked her, tugging my luggage behind me. Pattie shook her head.

Mom worked long hours at the Ministry. One summer a few years ago, she sent me overseas and barely contacted me. On the other hand, I never did find out why she had sent me overseas. Though to be honest, I didn't know why she had asked for me to return, either.

Climbing upstairs, I stepped tentatively to last room to the left of the hall. It felt strange stepping foot here after what felt like a few years.  
I pushed open the door to my room. A small wooden sign hung on the door, with words written on it.

 _'Rhiannon'._

I recognised the childish scrawl as my own handwriting when I was five with the habit to persistently write my name on everything my hands came across. Almost smiling, I walked in and was immediately overcome with a sense of nostalgia.

The large room was spotlessly clean, with the covers on my bed already made. The walls were plain and tall, though the room felt smaller now than it did years ago now that I had grown taller. The last time I had set foot in this room was about three years ago when I came back briefly to visit.

Still, there wasn't the layer of dust that I had expected, which must have been Pattie's doing. I set my belongings beside my table, leaving them mostly untouched. Considering that I was heading off to stay at my new school in about two days, there was hardly any point in unpacking at all.  
Pattie chose this moment to reappear by my side.

"Mistress would like you to go to Diagon Alley by Floo, Young Mistress. She'll meet you there," she said primly, large green eyes looking up at me expectantly.

"Alright then. Thank you." I responded, hastily moving to grab my purse. Making my way back downstairs, I stepped into the fireplace, before accepting the container of Floo powder that Pattie held out.

"See you later, Pattie," I beamed at her, before throwing down my handful of Floo powder. "Diagon Alley!"

The roaring green flames engulfed me, and I found myself vanishing from the fireplace. Within a few seconds, I reappeared.

Poking my head out, I stepped out of the fireplace, brushing soot from my jeans and grimacing at the black smudges they made on my hands.

"Rhiannon." A haughty voice rang out, and I turned, beaming slightly.

A feet away stood a woman, looking unbelievably proper in the work attire she donned. Her black hair, in contrast to my own, was tied up tightly in a neat bun. Her eyes were a warm brown, as compared to my own- my eyes were a colder, harsher grey.

"Mom." I said simply, taking a step forward. Her stern facade shifted as she rushed forward and wrapped her arms around me tightly.

We walked down Diagon Alley, stopping occasionally to get my things for school. Pushing through the crowd of wizards, a myriad of emotions descended upon me, and I reveled in how homesick I had been the past few years.

"What's wrong?" Mom brushed my hair away from my face in concern, eyes staring at the redness of my own.

"Nothing," I smiled, shaking my head. "Just missed it here."

The walk through Diagon Alley was strangely peaceful despite the commotion, and I hugged my new school books. It felt strangely comforting, like it was assuring me that this was not just a dream.

It was definitely good to be home.

I found my eyes drifting over to the envelope in my mother's hand, that was so delicately emblazoned with a school crest.

 _'Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, huh? Wonder how it's like there.'_


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter One; Unpleasant Pleasantries

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Transferring schools was a terrifying process.

There were a whole massive pile of paperwork that were to be completed, not to mention the emotional and mental scarring involved in the entire process. Unfortunately, I was not spared from this tedious process. Though I had to admit, I had not been extraordinarily attached to my old school, and I was more than glad to return to Britain for my studies.

Currently, I was seated in what I presumed to be the Headmaster's Office in my new school. I shifted around awkwardly on the plush chair he offered to me, one hand gripping the handle of the trunk and the other clamped by my side. Hanged on the walls of the office were various portraits, and their gazes flitted upon me as they whispered softly. The incriminating stares of people who I presumed to be the former Headmasters of the school certainly did not do well to make me feel more at home.

I shifted in my seat again and sighed, eyes fixing on the phoenix which perched nearby. For the lack of better words to describe it, it looked limp, worn-out, and ready to collapse at any given moment. I knew better than to judge it on how it appeared currently- it was well-known that once a phoenix died, it would be reborn from ashes, taking on a more splendid form. All in all, the whole process reminded me of a twisted, more beautiful form of metamorphosis- not that the phoenix was going to die and be reborn before my eyes.

My thoughts were disrupted by the sound of the swishing robes as the Headmaster of Hogwarts, Dumbledore made his appearance once more. He was aged, with eyes which looked tired but kind.

"I see that you have met Fawkes." He began.

Eyes flicking away from Fawkes, I smiled- or tried to. My smile must have appeared to be more of a grimace as a flash of amusement appeared in his eyes.  
I was once again distracted by the soft click of a door closing as a woman slide in, an air of stern firmness about her. What she was holding caught my attention- a wrinkled, pointed hat, mildewed and worn-out from age. I must've have blanched at the sight, because the corners of her mouth lifted in what seemed to be amusement.

Much to my horror, she placed the Sorting Hat on the top of my head and I felt the corner of my mouth twitch. I stopped thereafter as I grew aware of soft muttering above my head, before realising that it was the Hat. In my mind, a mental image formed of the face-like creases shifting about like an actual face.  
I scoffed at the image before beginning to strain to make out whatever the Hat was saying, mentally chiding it to speak louder. I eventually stopped, realising that the Hat had stopped talking ages ago, and was currently in deep contemplation.

Breathing out softly, I sighed, fully aware of the expectant gazes directed my way by the headmaster and the professor. _This could be worse_ , I told myself. _You could have been easily chucked into the front of hundreds of strangers and appraised before their eyes._ I shivered at the thought. I realised that that would have been exactly what would have happened if Mom hadn't decided to appeal to Dumbledore for a private Sorting.

After about two minutes, the incessant muttering began again. However, I was very much distracted by my own thoughts. Where would I go? There were four Houses, but only two of them seemed to match my profile. Maybe I would get into Slytherin, where someone I knew was, or perhaps Ravenclaw, like my mother?

 _'A tricky one... now where should I put you?'_

I mentally sighed. Finally, after what seemed to be an eternity, it had finally come down to the big question.

To be frank, I wondered if the question was even directed at me, or if I actually had any say in the matter. But as nonchalantly as I could manage, I half-shrugged and I shot back in response.

 _'Surprise me.'_

There was just a moment of silence and by this time I was already sitting up in anticipation. Ravenclaw or Slytherin, which would it be?

The hat shifted and I knew the announcement would come soon. I shut my eyes and counted down in my head. Then the hat shifted, and its verdict boomed through the whole room as if it was announcing its decision to the whole school.

"GRYFFINDOR!"

I could have sworn that the two professors in the vicinity cracked a smile, but on the other hand, I almost blanched. Glancing down at my robes, a tinge of colour flooded my cheeks.

Why was I in Gryffindor? I was in no way noble or brave. Though in the Hat's defense, I did ask that it surprise me- I just didn't expect that I would be chosen for another house other than Ravenclaw or Slytherin. It made me feel strange and confused, but in the end I found myself coming to terms with the new fact with giddy acceptance.

"We have a new addition to Gryffindor, it seems," Dumbledore remarked lightheartedly. "Minerva, if you could take her to her common room."

"Very well, Albus."

I made to get up and glanced down, reaching to take my trunk- before I glanced down and realised that it wasn't there. I then remembered that there were house elves in Hogwarts- they must have brought my belongings to my new dormitory the moment I was sorted.

"I welcome you to Hogwarts, Miss Greenwood. I'm certain that you will enjoy it here." Dumbledore spoke, his eyes twinkling- like he knew something I did not, and seemed rather amused by it.

Nodding, I smiled and offered a small 'thanks'- awkwardly, I might add, before I bowed and made to follow the other Professor out of the Headmaster's office.  
From what I have gathered, I had arrived sometime after what was known as the Feast- which was a pity, considering that there were two things I loved most in the world- namely food and sleep.

Feeling out of place, I trailed behind McGonagall, torn between keeping quiet and starting a conversation. The anxiety bit away at me as I inwardly struggled to get myself to speak.

"Professor?" My mouth opened. Too late to back out now.

"What is it, Miss Greenwood?" She continued walking forward, her tone clipped and proper- she sounded cross, though that might have just been how her voice usually sounded like.

"How should I address you?" I piped up in response hesitantly. There was hardly a break in her stride as she responded, tight-lipped but not unkind.

"You may address me as Professor McGonagall."

We stopped outside a portrait of a rather large woman wearing a fancy-looking dress- I had nothing against stocky people, of course, considering I was of a stocky build myself and had a chubby face.

"Wattlebird." McGonagall spoke to the portrait of the lady, who was staring at me in considerable interest. I looked away pointedly.

The portrait swung open and I trailed after her, entering what seemed to be a common space in the dormitories. There seemed to be some sort of commotion going on, and vaguely I caught wind of excited murmuring.

 _"I can't believe they actually flew a car to school!"_

 _"Wicked, right? And right into the Whomping Willow!"_

 _"How are they not- "_

A hush fell over the common room collectively as McGonagall made her presence known. Respectively, the students fell quiet as her eyes turned sharply towards the students. I stepped backwards, and hoped to blend into the shadows. Judging from the concerned and rather confused expressions most of those in the room bore, it seemed that McGonagall did not step foot into the Gryffindor common room often.

"I am pleased to say," she began, "that as of today, there will be a new addition to Gryffindor."

Transfer students were uncommon, it seemed, for almost immediately, mutters could be heard. McGonagall ignored the whispers, instead sweeping her eyes towards me.

"Miss Greenwood, if you please."

Suddenly conscious of the stares of a dozen or so people on me, I felt a blush creep onto my cheeks. When it seemed to be made clear that there was no escaping this, and that it was better to get this over and done with, I stepped forward.

"Erm, hi." I shifted around, staring at my feet, before remembering that I was supposed to be introducing myself to people, not the floor. My head forcibly jerked itself up. "I'm Rhiannon Greenwood. I was studying in France until, well, this year. Hope this year will be a good one?"

My uncertainty in my wish for a good year was apparently amusing, because half of the common room broke out in laughter. Even McGonagall found it amusing as the corners of her mouth curled upwards by just a minute fraction.

Sheepishly, I rubbed the back of my neck before continuing, feeling at a loss for what to say.

"Anyway, it's a pleasure to meet you. Good night."

There was silence after that, and I was fixed with slightly more welcoming stares. Thankfully, my little introduction had finally come to an end as McGonagall reminded them to look out for each other- or indirectly reminding them to look out for me, since I was new and ignorant and thus more likely to get into trouble.

With an order for everyone to head to their dormitories to rest, McGonagall welcomed me once again to Gryffindor before telling me to head to my own dormitory, handing me a couple of papers as she did so.

"Any difficulties locating where your lessons are, I recommend seeking the help of our prefects- or you could always seek help from Miss Granger, who I am certain will do her best to aid you."

Whoever 'Miss Granger' was, the professor seemed to be fond of her. Uttering a word of thanks and waving as McGonagall left for her office, I hurriedly followed after a group of girls before I entered what seemed to be the dormitory for girls. Looking around, I spotted my trunk sitting next to an empty bed and immediately hurried over. The slow, tedious process of unpacking began shortly, and meticulously I began to customise the small living space granted to me. Firstly, a picture of Mom and I went straight up on the wall next to my bed. My heart then ached as I saw the letter that had fallen out of my bag a few days ago, before I decisively pinned the letter next to the picture. I hid my broom underneath my bed with the rest of my trunk.

My mood lightened considerably, however, as I hung my Puddlemere United scarf over my bedpost and stuck banners of my favourite banners onto my wall as well- Green Day, Nirvana, Queen, Three Days Grace, you name it. Being born into a pureblood family, it was uncommon that I would be into muggle bands. But my growing obsessio- I mean, interest had started about two years ago when I first stepped into a music shop selling what the muggles called 'CDs'. Out of pure curiosity, I had bought some random ones and listened to them- and now I was hooked. Who could blame me? I haven't heard good stuff like that since the Weird Sisters.

"You must be the transfer student." A voice interrupted my thoughts and I jerked upwards.

Looking up, I caught sight of bushy brown hair, and a girl the next bed away who was barely visible behind the gigantic book she held.

I waved hesitantly.

"Hi." I greeted, acutely aware that this person would very well be living in this dormitory with me for the next five years.

"You're Rhiannon Greenwood, aren't you? I heard your introduction downstairs earlier." She spoke, and I nodded, feeling slightly intimidated for some reason.

"Yeah, that's me." I swung my legs over the side of my bed to face her. "And you would be...?"

The brown-haired girl snapped her book shut and her head snapped up towards me.

"I'm Hermione. Hermione Granger. Pleasure," she said, gesturing me over. Granger? Wasn't that who Professor McGonagall was talking about earlier? In response, I walked over and sat down on the very edge of the bed, accepting the hand she held out.

"Pleasure. I was told to come to you by Professor McGonagall actually, if I needed any help." I stated. She seemed pleased by the fact that McGonagall had spoken highly of her, and her cheeks tinged pink in her satisfaction.

"Well, I would be glad to help a fellow Gryffindor, Rhiannon." Hermione beamed at me and I beamed back unsurely. It wasn't often that I encountered someone nice. Most of the time, I seemed to be left alone or ignored- especially when I was studying in France. Nevertheless, Hermione seemed kind enough, and doubting everyone I came across would get me nowhere.

"No offense, Hermione, but I dislike my name. Call me Rhia, instead." I said with a laugh. "My real name's a hassle to say. Who names their kid Rhiannon?" I joked in mock disgust. Hermione smiled in amusement.

"Your parents, apparently. Even though personally, I do think it's a pretty name."

I flushed.

"Why, I'm honoured." I recovered, grinning. "I think your name is pretty, too."

For a moment, we beamed at each other. It was somewhat awkward, but at least I knew that I could get along with her.

"Thank you, Rhia. You should go wash up before you go to bed." Hermione put away her book. "Come on, I'll show you the bathrooms and introduce you to Lavender and Parvati."

Without much protest, I got up and followed after Hermione. It has been a long day, after all. And while Hogwarts did not seem as bad as I made it out to be, change was nonetheless still mentally draining. I collapsed onto my bed and sighed.

When I was in France, it was because my mother had sent me to a boarding school there- Beauxbatons, in fact. However, I stood out sorely there, considering that Beauxbatons consisted mostly of students from France. Now that I considered it, Hogwarts seemed to be nearly the complete opposite of Beauxbatons- old fashioned and rustic in contrast to the Beauxbatons, which was more fanciful and elegant in its decorations.

Strangely enough, there was not a time where I feel even somewhat relaxed, in a school setting. Maybe Mom was right. A change in scenery would do me good, considering that Hogwarts made me feel at ease, for some strange reason.

With that thought, I pulled my covers over me and tried to sleep.

.

Breakfast was a momentous occasion.

I sat myself at the table- next to Hermione, at her invitation, and I was quickly introduced to her friends. Beside her sat a boy with black hair, and seated opposite of her sat a boy with red hair.

"Ron, would you quit stuffing your face for a minute?" Hermione remarked. I focused on him for a moment, before realising that he seemed vaguely familiar. Actually, all the redheads seated at the table seemed to be somewhat familiar.

"Sorry, 'Mione." He said, not sounding at all apologetic, before stuffing a scone into his already-full mouth.

Hermione cleared her throat and turned towards me.

"Anyway, Rhia, meet Ron and Harry. Ron, Harry, meet Rhia."

My eyes glanced at the two of them respectively.

"Nice to meet you," I said, glancing at each of them respectively. I focused on Ron's freckled face, before I caught sight of a scar barely concealed on Harry's forehead, eyes widening in recognition before turning away. "Ron, you wouldn't happen to be a Weasley or related to them, will you? Mom told me she is acquainted with them. She works for the Ministry, see."

"Y-Yeah. Greenwood, was it? She came over to visit once." Ron said, eyebrows furrowed in contemplation.

I nodded. Mom had sent me a picture of her having dinner with the Weasleys recently. However, I frowned as I quickly remembered something.

"Oh, she sent me a picture. If I recall correctly though, you were in the picture too, Harry." I said, glancing over at the black-haired boy.

"Harry was staying with the Weasleys before school opened, you see," Hermione explained. "They broke him out of his house with a flying car." There was the slightest hint of disapproval in her voice as she said that.

I grinned at that, however. If they had to _break_ him out of his house, it didn't seem like the place he stayed was all that pleasant, anyway.

"Wouldn't happen to be the same car that they flew to school in, wouldn't it?" I piped up.

Hermione tutted in disdain at the mention of the fiasco that had apparently occurred yesterday.

"Yes, it would be." She said, shooting the duo a look. On cue, the expressions of the guilty parties turned embarrassed, though determinedly defiant.

It was at this point where owls began to soar into the Great Hall, and I looked up expectantly, before I realised that I had neglected to write to Mom about my Sorting.

 _Oops._

Shaking my head, I then glanced up, where an owl seemed to be headed towards Ron's direction.

"Oh, looks like you have mail." I commented lightly, before I noticed the glaring crimson of the letter the owl held. It crashed into Hermione's jug before slumping, unconscious, leaving the crimson red letter in front of redhead, looking angry and damp.

"Errol!" Ron let out a cry, pulling the owl out of the jug. "Oh no-"

"It's all right, he's still alive," Hermione said gently as she prodded the owl.

Ron still look horrified, though for a completely different reason. His eyes were focused solely on the red envelope the owl left him.

"Ha, Weasley got a Howler!" Someone snickered rather loudly. I turned towards the direction of the source, eyebrows raised slightly. It seemed like someone was rather unsympathetic towards Ron's plight. My eyes met a pair of blue ones blankly, and the boy in question sputtered and turned away.

"Open it," urged Neville, a round-faced boy who I learnt was rather forgetful, as it seemed he was no stranger to Howlers himself. "It'll be over in a few minutes."

Bellowing ensued as Ron opened the red envelope.

And indeed, minutes later, a sort of silence fell, punctuated by the laughs of some in the Great Hall. Ron, on the other hand, dug his head into table and was glowing red in embarrassment. I looked up at the now empty sky of the Great Hall, almost feeling disappointed at the lack of post from anyone. My eyes wandered over to the opposite side of the hall, where the Slytherins sat, and narrowed as I caught sight of all-too-familiar pale blonde hair.

.

* * *

 **In which the transfer seems to be going on smoothly.**


	3. Chapter 2

**A/N: There is some canon divergence here. Honestly, it's because I had this idea that things shouldn't stay exactly the same if there is someone new joining the story. Though in case some of you are wondering, Rhiannon is definitely not going to join the Golden Trio.**

 **I'm really grateful for your favourites and follows. Thank you so much and I hope that you will enjoy this chapter!**

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Chapter Two; When Things get Pesky

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First up was Herbology, which also happened to be the lesson where I learned that Hermione was metaphorically _insane._

Slightly taken aback as she answered Professor Sprout's question word for word, I could only watch in amazement as Hermione earned ten points for her amazing memory work. Working with Hermione with school work must be pressurising, for there was no way she would accept anything that wasn't perfect. It was then did Professor Sprout then instructed us to work in groups of four to a tray after making sure everyone had a pair of earmuffs.

I glanced over to Hermione, Ron and Harry- whom I had begun to call the Golden Trio in my mind, but I was somewhat let down when I realised they were working with a boy named Justin Finch-Fletchley. I then determinedly turned around, searching around for a group, trying not to let myself be bothered before I reminded myself that I couldn't be relying on Hermione to get me through the rest of my school life, right? However, that thought didn't stop a familiar nervous feeling from biting into my nerves.

Alas, I found myself working with Neville, Dean Thomas, and the boy who had laughed at Ron over breakfast. He glanced at me and must have recognised me because his face screwed up into a scowl.

"Seamus Finnigan." Was the most he offered. I was honestly surprised that he had introduced himself in the first place. Seriously. I noted down another scrap of useless information- his voice had a sort of Irish drawl to it. I squared my shoulders and shared a glance with Neville and Dean, who shrugged.

"Rhiannon Greenwood." I responded back softly. I was unaware if he had responded or not, because a minute later I clamped the (fluffy) earmuffs firmly over my ears before setting into work.

Boy, were Mandrakes a pain in the arse to work with. I admittedly had little patience for children- much less tiny infant-like plants that squirmed and screamed. As I ruthlessly plunged them into soil, I was very much amused to see the look of irritation on Seamus' face at how Neville seemed to be having an extremely good time coaxing the Mandrakes into their pots.

Nevertheless, Herbology ended with most of the students covered with dirt, sweaty and very much disgruntled.

Except for Neville that is, who walked out of Herbology beaming and with a bounce in his step.

"You like Herbology?" I asked.

Neville nodded eagerly. Seamus and Dean caught up and fell into stride next to us.

"Those Mandrakes- nasty, they are." Seamus grumbled. Inwardly, I agreed with his sentiment- only I didn't seem to hate the little rascals with such a passion, annoying as they may be.

"Yeah, I agree. They are kind of- cute though." I commented offhandedly and immediately earned a look of disbelief from the lad.

I felt heat prickle up my neck in defensiveness but instead I grinned, shrugging.

"Come on, they're tiny and could kill you. What's not to love?" I teased. Seamus huffed at that, but didn't seem to be actually annoyed at my sarcastic tone.

I could live with this.

.

Next up was Transfiguration, which I had admittedly been looking forward to the whole day.

For some reason, I had always been drawn into Transfiguration. It had always been my favourite subject, and somehow I liked it more when I learnt that Professor McGonagall was the professor who would teach us. It had been eventful, too- Ron was constantly being engulfed in foul-smelling smoke because of his broken wand, and Seamus accidentally blew up his beetle, and his hair had taken the brunt of the tiny explosion, as it was currently charred and sticking up in odd directions.

"Don't worry," Dean assured me. "He's been blowing himself up since first year."

I laughed at that. For some reason I just found the idea that Seamus blew himself up often amusing. It just seemed to be the kind of thing he would do.

"He must have pretty decent knowledge on how to take care of his hair, though," I pointed out. "If he burns his hair as often as you say _and_ his hair still looks pretty on a daily basis."

It seemed that Seamus heard us, because he shot me a glare (that I couldn't take seriously, considering his singed eyebrows) and I grinned back at him innocently.

"Miss Greenwood, if you could actually begin to transfigure your beetle." McGonagall told me off. I turned pink and jolted up, directing my smile at her.

"Sorry, Professor. Will do so straight away."

Tapping my beetle deliberately, I uttered the spell, looking on and concentrating as it turned into a shiny black button.

Surprisingly, McGonagall awarded me five points despite my earlier mischief, and I couldn't help but smile. This wasn't such a bad way to earn points for Gryffindor, after all.

As class ended, I found myself next to Neville again as we shuffled off to Defence against the Dark Arts. As I made my way through the corridor, my eyes widened as I caught sight of familiar pale blonde hair.

" _Signed photos_? You're giving out signed photos, Potter?"

Draco's voice was admittedly different than how it used to be. We were childhood friends because both of our families were pure-blooded. However, for some reason, I had not been invited to stay over at the Malfoy Manor before school started, and neither had Draco replied to my letters. I knew what this meant, however I felt more hurt that Draco would, for the lack of better words, abandon me so easily.

"Everyone queue up! Potter's giving out signed photos!" His voice cut over the crowd almost scathingly and to me, it sounded uncharacteristically bitter.

Harry angrily bit back a response- and while it was clear that this was no uncommon occurrence, it didn't meant that Harry liked Draco picking fights with him.

Draco's gaze swept across the entire courtyard- and it just so happened to meet mine. I narrowed my eyes, making it clear that I was disappointed in his childish behaviour.

The Draco that I knew from childhood was stuck up, but at least had a sense of dignity. This version of Draco, however, was no more than a schoolyard bully.

"You're just jealous," Colin Creevey, a first year spoke up bravely.

"Jealous?" Malfoy bit back at him, his voice almost venomous at the suggestion. His goons, Crabbe and Goyle snickered next to him in an unintelligible way.

"Eat slugs, Malfoy." Ron spoke up angrily, his ears red and his eyes narrowed.

"Be careful, Weasley," Draco sneered, and I couldn't help a feeling of disgust welling up within me. Obviously, I had only seen one side of Draco before, and I was utterly unimpressed with this- _facade_ that he was putting on. Though admittedly, I had no idea how much of the facade was true to who he was- Draco Malfoy had changed, and I was unfortunately the last person to see it.

Draco drew himself up to his full height, his face sallow and mocking as he began to imitate Mrs Weasley. "If you put another toe out of line-"

I had no idea what drew me to act, but I stepped out into the clearing, fixing my stare upon Draco.

"Malfoy. That's enough," I said coldly, and Malfoy's eyes narrowed as he scowled at the sight of me.

"Out of my way, Greenwood. This has nothing to do with you."

It may have been my imagination, but Draco sounded just the least bit hurt. I expected that he was used to his friends sticking to his defence, but strictly speaking he was the one who had neglected me as a friend in the first place.

I steeled my gaze and my grey eyes matched his, before my lips curled up almost apologetically. "I'm afraid not, Malfoy. The moment you pick on someone in Gryffindor, everyone in Gryffindor will be involved."

Yes, I was aware that my words would not have much of an impact considering this was my second day here. It was actually extremely stupid of me to be doing this when it was clear that Draco had this degree of control over the Slytherins. But I have witnessed and seen with my own eyes the bonds the Gryffindors held- and nothing would make me eat my words.

Malfoy's eyes darted down to my robes, where he realised that my robes were matching that of Harry and Ron's- Gryffindor's. He seemed to be aware that I had been hoping for Ravenclaw but had expected that I would be in Slytherin. Just like him.

In expense of his silence, I doubted that my words had impacted him somehow, considering that he, too was a prideful person who defended the things he held great importance to.

In a stroke of (debatable) good luck, it was at this moment where the Defence against the Dark Arts Professor, Gilderoy Lockhart, showed up, sweeping Harry to a side and seemingly under the impression that Harry was thirsting for attention (like him). I turned away from Malfoy and hurried to follow Neville into class, where we sat down near Seamus and Dean.

Seamus broke the silence.

"That was mighty... honourable of you." He drawled in what seemed to be grudging acceptance. I was surprised that he had spoken in the first place, considering that he didn't seem to like me much at all.

"Not really," I shook my head. "He was picking on Harry and Ron. It's nothing."

I silently added in my mind that I had already been less-than-pleased with Malfoy already. While I wanted to defend Harry and Ron, I was already hurt by what Draco had did- his behaviour in the corridor had simply triggered my anger. My intentions had never been completely pure-hearted.

I wondered if I came across as a bad person, considering that Seamus had such a unreadable expression on his face at my response.

 _You did consider Slytherin, after all_ , _and I have no doubt that you were considered for it,_ a voice remarked in my head. I didn't argue.

It was then did Gilderoy Lockhart enter the room, and I scoffed at his ridiculous introduction- and guiltily I also scoffed at the collective swoons that came from the general female populace. Admittedly, I was distressed when I realised that even level-headed Hermione was also evidently taken by the flamboyant professor.

"He made us buy what- seven, eight books? All of which consist of him boasting about his conquests. I'll believe him when I see it." I grumbled. Neville silently nodded. So far, Lockhart came across as full of himself and air-headed- I did not have a good impression of him so far.

I did admit that he was _somewhat_ good-looking, but he wouldn't be my type in a hundred years.

So when he announced that he was giving a test, I perked up in attention- giving a test to test one's understanding in a subject was in my opinion a good way to start off a lesson. Maybe he actually was a sensible teacher, and I had been too hard in my judgement of him.

As soon as I read the first few questions of the test however, my opinion of him plunged from bad to worse.

 _1\. What is Gilderoy Lockhart's favourite colour?_

"Are you bloody serious," I hissed lowly. In front of me, Seamus snickered in agreement. "This better not be graded." I groaned.

Reluctantly, I scribbled down the answer- which I only knew because I had been combing through the entire series of books for some actual knowledge to make notes, only to be imparted with absolutely useless facts about Gilderoy Lockhart and the vague ways he defeated the various beasts.

Unsurprisingly, Hermione got full marks on the test. I blanched at her pink face upon receiving Lockhart's praise.

"I must ask you not to scream," Lockhart said suddenly. "It might provoke them."

Instinctively, I sat up. Would this be the real lesson? Would Lockhart show us some sort of strange, dangerous and exotic creature he had caught?

He whipped off the cover off the cage that sat on his desk, and my eyes widened. Though it was admittedly not from fear of any kind.

"Yes..." Lockhart said in a hushed and overly-dramatic voice. " _Freshly caught Cornish pixies._ "

Seamus chortled with laughter and turned around. I snorted- rather unladylike, I know, and we exchanged glances, sending each other highly amused expressions.

Lockhart smiled at Seamus, flashing him a smile full of glittery teeth. "Yes?"

In response, he barely managed to choke out. "It's just- they're not very dangerous, are they?"

I snickered and barely managed to keep my laughter in place. This was absolutely _ridiculous._

However, real pandemonium was unleashed when Lockhart decided what a splendid idea it would be to release an entire cage of Cornish pixies into the class. Screams could be heard as the pixies wreaked havoc in all their electric-blue glory. They sprayed ink bottles and shredded books and smashed the windows.

Much to my horror, a few picked up Neville by his ears and were lifting him up slowly from the ground. Smacking away a pixie that had been pulling my hair, I rushed towards him in a panic- being pulled up by the ears had to be goddamn painful and I was already inwardly wincing as Neville got pulled higher and higher.

I lunged and grabbed Neville's foot. A few pixies sprayed ink over me in retaliation and I glared at Lockhart, before beginning to shoot Full Body-Bind curses at the pixies pulling Neville's ears.

Thankfully, I was too near to miss, though one of the pixies simply dodged my spell and proceeded to dump a whole bottle of ink in my hair. Swatting away the few pixies with the cover page of Voyages with Vampires (in your face, Lockhart!) I pulled Neville under a desk to seek shelter and we were quickly joined by Seamus and Dean, who were in similar states of disarray.

"Can you believe him?" Dean grumbled. His brown hair was matted with ink and had a quill stuck in his dark curls. I shook my head, remembering Lockhart's miserable attempt at subduing the little devils and how his wand had gotten chucked out the window.

" 'Peskipiksi Pesternomi'? Merlin knows where he gets his spells." I sighed at the absurdity of the whole situation and glared at the head of blonde hair that was Lockhart.

Thankfully, the bell rang and I quickly grabbed my books and followed the others (or rather, ran) out of the classroom.

Once we were safely out of the hellhole, I looked around for the Golden Trio, more out of habit than anything.

"Where's Hermione, Ron and Harry?" I asked, feeling concerned.

Seamus pointed to the sight of Lockhart hurriedly leaving the classroom and shutting the door behind him.

"Got sabotaged by that idiot to catch the lot of them, they did," he said, shaking his head. Shredded paper fell out of his sandy hair as he did so, causing his usual sloppy appearance to look even more dishevelled. I would have laughed at him if I hadn't known that I wasn't in a much better state.

.

During lunch, I was quickly attracted by the news that there would be Quidditch try-outs later for reserves. Apparently, Gryffindor had lost the Quidditch Cup last year due to the team only having six players at the time. It seemed that their Seeker had been hospitalised, or something along those lines.

If one could not tell by my bed swamped with Puddlemere merchandise, yes, I was a fan of Quidditch. One of the reasons was undeniably Malfoy's presence in my childhood- his near-obsession with Quidditch had rubbed off on me.

Hell if I let this chance to play Quidditch in Merlin-knows-how-long go.

It was lucky that I had remembered to bring my broomstick, a Nimbus Two Thousand that Malfoy got his father to buy me for my birthday last year when we were still best buddies. When I wrote to Mom about already having a broomstick, she was rather pleased that she did not have to make the trip down to Quality Quidditch Supplies herself. In light of recent events, I was tempted not to use the broom he gave me- but then I knew it would be stupid not to. It was a try-out, after all. Having a good broom would be advantageous for me.

Hence later that afternoon, I hurried to the pitch, broomstick in tow. I had to be at least twenty minutes early, but I set down my broom and did some light warm-ups. I was only after I was done did I realise that I was not alone- somebody who I presumed was the captain of the Gryffindor team was already there, having unloaded the box containing the Bludgers, the Snitch, and the Quaffle. I shifted around, my hands feeling sweaty in my worn gloves even though try-outs had yet to start.

"Here for the try-outs?" The captain had finally noticed that I was here and he called out. I decided to swallow down the usual awkward feelings I got when I met someone new.

"Yeah," I responded, relieved to find that I was not stuttering. "Do you need any help, by the way?"

The boy shook his head and waved off the invitation. "I'm mostly all set up- been here for at least half an hour. You are?"

Admittedly, I was taken aback by his question, because I assumed that he would have asked for my name later, when everyone had arrived.

"Rhiannon Greenwood," I replied. The boy had begun to make his way over, and I smiled to hopefully disguise how nervous I was.

"The transfer student, right? I recognise you from yesterday," he commented.

I nodded, and gave him a quick once-over. He was tall and burly, and he sounded Scottish.

"I'm Oliver Wood, by the way. Captain. Hope you are decent enough to make the reserves." He stated directly. While it might have sounded condescending to some, I took no offense. I was also thankful he hadn't offered to shake hands, because both of our hands were currently gloved. That would have been weird.

Smiling, I joked lightly in response. "Thanks. Hope I'm decent enough, too."

We were interrupted by the shuffling of feet entering the pitch. Some of them were people already on the team who had come to watch. I made out the infamous Fred and George Weasley walking over to presumably talk to Wood, and I began to slid away as discreetly as I could. I failed miserably, of course.

"Oh, it's the transfer student!" One voice rang out.

"Where do you think you're going, transfer student?" Another voice asked, sounding cheerful. I turned around to see two identical faces staring down at me.

"Away from human interaction?" I offered innocently.

They blinked.

"Fair point." The one on the right said.

"What was your name again?" The other said.

"Rhiannon Greenwood." I replied, feeling thoroughly confused.

A grin slid onto their faces.

"I'm Gred." The one on the right said.

"Forge." The left on the left grinned.

"Pleasure," both chorused. I blinked slowly, feeling exasperated. Wood was unamused at the display.

"Stop that." He warned.

"Merlin, you're terrifying, Captain." Gred, or I assumed it was Fred, spoke.

"Enough to make us piss our pants." Forge or George supplied further.

Wood sighed in exasperation. "Go sit down," he ordered, an edge creeping into his voice that was very much captain-like. "Try-outs are starting."

He pointed to me and I obliged, walking off to gather with the others in the pitch. I realised that I was probably the only person mental enough to try out in second-year, considering that everyone else was literally towering above me in terms of size. I shrunk to a corner, feeling timid.

Wood came over. One by one, he asked everyone for their hopeful reserve positions. When he pointed to me, I already had a position in mind.

"Chaser," I said. It seemed like an unsuitable role for me, given my build- I was short, but had broad shoulders, and overall more stocky than petite, but I had faith in my throwing skills. Wood (understandably) raised an eyebrow at my response, but then turned away, instructing us to break up into groups according to our hopeful positions, before having us fly rounds around the pitch. Ten rounds, in fact. I felt the extreme need to be competitive and just thought, why not? I had endurance from practising, and I (hopefully) had some technique.

I smiled. Those who had speeded off away immediately at the beginning were beginning to lose steam. I was situated somewhere in the middle, maintaining a pace that was relatively fast enough to preserve energy. I had been leaning forwards slightly, so that my broom would just have a bit more acceleration.

In a split-second decision, I accelerated, breaking out from the rest and zooming in front, making sure my elbows were tucked in and my form was as streamlined as possible. I speeded through the remaining rounds, beaming at the spirited feeling flying gave me, and touched off for the final round, not laying off the speed even as I passed the final mark.

Once I was safely over, however, I pulled to a stop at the side before landing. I had been third to come in, and I was relieved that my stamina had not lost to majority of the others even though I was clearly at a disadvantage due to my age.

Soon, everyone fell in and I followed, feeling so very alive at that moment- all traces of my earlier nervousness seemed to have gone. At least, until I realised what we had to do for the reserve Chaser try-outs. We had to try to score against Wood- the bloody Captain who was renowned for being one of the best Keepers in Hogwarts history. I had heard many stories of the impossible saves that he pulled off.

Taking in a deep breath, I calmed myself and steeled myself. There was no point in panicking. As a Chaser in that moment, all I had to focus on was to get the Quaffle through the hoops. To tell the truth, I was shocked that it was an individual task, considering that Chasers had to pass to each other score goals- though I supposed Wood might be sifting out those with raw scoring ability before moving on to other factors.

What truly made me panic, however, was the fact that they made us go into the locker rooms while each person was signalled out for their turn. But then, as I scanned across the entire room, I realised something- everyone was trying to deduce what kind of scoring strategies he was most vulnerable to. In this scenario, even those who had seen Wood play before would be struck with uncertainty with how they should score. It was a simple, brilliantly set up situation where the sheer pressure of facing the unknown would strike you- you had to make it, or break it.

I shut my eyes and began to think. Most people would attempt to score their goals by feinting, but that meant that Oliver Wood was either capable of seeing through feints or very adept at stopping them. I weighed what would surprise them, what was possibly awaiting us outside, and what I was capable of pulling off. Even so, if Wood was as good as they say, it seemed like scoring would be impossible. What could possibly encounter someone with a strategic and rational mind? My answer came and struck me like a ton of bricks.

I just had to be unpredictable. I had to unnerve him somehow by scoring. At the revelation, adrenaline pumped through me and it seemed like positively forever before I was called out.

"Rhiannon Greenwood?" Upon hearing my name, I got up and quickly did some stretches again before I darted outside, broomstick in hand. It was now or never.

.

* * *

 **In which Lockhart is the incompetent teacher everyone thought him to be.**


	4. Chapter 3

Chapter Three; Lose thy Mind

* * *

.

When I surveyed the scene outside, I sighed. It was what I had expected- absolutely _terrifying._

The stands were as packed as ever, and the hopefuls for the Beaters, the Seekers and the Keepers sat next to the pitch. Meanwhile, on the pitch itself, the Bludgers flew about hazardously, along with Fred and George who waved their beats a bit too cheerfully for my liking. A chaser whom I recognised as being on the team, Alicia Spinnet was on the pitch as well, presumably to attempt to steal the Quaffle.

"You understand? Keep the Quaffle from Alicia, score as many goals as possible in fifteen minutes." Wood called out. He was already in his position in front of the goals, and had Angelina Johnson tracking the scores.

"Yeah," I called back, grinning to feign confidence. "I always did peg you for the ruthless type."

Thankfully, he didn't take offence, instead grinning, as if we were sharing some inside joke. "Glad to be of service. You ready?"

I smiled.

No, I won't ever be ready for this. This was crazy. Wood was crazy. _I_ was crazy for even being here.

"Ready as ever." I lied, flashing him a grin, and immediately I felt like throwing up.

Well, time to either impress the captain or be utterly humiliated.

Alicia tossed me the Quaffle. Tucking it against my side, I made sure that I was holding it firm enough as a countdown started.

As it hit one, I kicked off, and Alicia started off in pursuit of me. As I felt her approach nearer and nearer, I began speeding in zigzag directions in the hopes of throwing her off, not faltering until I was safely within the scoring area.

At this point, I could feel Wood watching my every movement. I had entered the scoring area from the right, and I was nearest to the bottom two hoops.

Wood would be expecting me do perform a feint, or follow my momentum and throw into the hoop further away from me.

And hence, I decided to do neither.

Yanking my broom upwards, I tossed the Quaffle upwards with a spin before I quickly flipped forward into a one-eighty flip, broom and all. The back of the broom flicked up and propelled the ball into the top hoop. The moment it passed through the hoop, albeit through luck, I could breathe again. The sound of a goal scoring ran through the pitch and I smiled.

It was just one goal. I couldn't afford to relax just yet. All I had to do was unnerve Wood. That was it.

The Quaffle was now passed to Alicia. I sped off after her, face burning with a newfound determination.

My first attempt to retrieve the Quaffle was met with disappointment as Alicia dived away from me. My second attempt was foiled as George hit the Bludger to where I was, and I realised that I had forgotten about them. My third attempt succeeded as I threw off a glove recklessly and hit it out of her grip with my fingers, before grabbing it possessively.

To my growing frustration, Wood seemed extremely cautious after my first goal. I only managed one more goal out of three attempts before I realised that I had only less than three minutes left.

Desperate times called for desperate measures.

I was in much more of a hurry to get back the Quaffle from Alicia. As she attempted to dive to evade me, I instead dived further and made sure I was in front of her, before I grabbed the Quaffle and took off. Hearing a familiar whistle, I ducked as a Bludger barely missed me. I didn't bother glaring at the twin Weasleys- I was running out of time.

Diving towards the scoring area, I made a decision, quickly pulling myself on top of the broom into a stand, my feet attempting to balance on the top of my broomstick. I would most likely be killed doing this manoeuvre, or die trying.

Wood's eyes narrowed as he wondered what I was trying to do- before they widened in recognition as he realised that I was attempting the Chelmondiston Charge.

When the broom sped over him, I recklessly launched myself into the air and jumped, Quaffle in tow as I shot it through the hoop with both hands.

It was then did I realise that I had neglected to stop the broom, and said broom was steadily moving away from me as I was performing the manoeuvre. It was a fatal mistake- and has always been a mistake that I committed in fact, with the few times I attempted the move over the past few years. I had a feeling that if I didn't recover this time, I would end up with more than just a few broken bones.

I opted to keep my cool, instead reaching out and managing to barely catch the end of my broom. While I managed to regain hold on my broom I was also beginning to plummet towards the ground. My arms burned from the strain as it became a fight between me and imminent injury. I pulled it back towards me and desperately slung myself over it- just as time ran out.

Hurriedly travelling back to the ground my lungs burned from the effort and my legs felt strangely shaky as I steadied myself on the ground. For the first time in my life, I was bloody relieved to be off my broom.

Wood touched down after me, and I sighed shakily, fixing my stare at him.

"That was insane," I heaved. " _You're_ insane."

The Keeper stared at me, and I could tell that he was resisting the urge to roll his eyes.

"Says the one who attempted the Chelmondiston Charge- and nearly died trying." He replied smoothly.

I slumped, knowing that my mess-up would cost me. Now that that entire ordeal was over, the thought that someone like Wood would not appreciate recklessness on his teams crossed my mind and I sighed.

Raising my hands defensively, I protested weakly. "I'll have you know that I did it before. I messed up."

His eyebrows raised and I swallowed, my throat feeling unusually dry as anxiety kicked in again. "I'm sorry, alright? It's not like I'll forget to stop the broom again after almost falling off and I- " Nausea engulfed me, and I swayed unsteadily on the spot.

" -need to puke." I finished, and dashed off towards the bathrooms. I came close to vomiting, but didn't, and it made me feel all the more queasy.

I returned to the pitch a few minutes later, heading to where Wood and Angelina were seated. The twins had landed as well, and I swallowed and hurried in my step.

"Sorry. I felt sick for a moment." I stated, bowing my head. "May I go?"

Wood fixed a stare at me, though it didn't seem to be an annoyed one.

"Not yet, Greenwood. Tell me, do you any prior Quidditch experience?" He spoke, dark eyes focusing on mine.

"I guess," I replied honestly. "I played in my old school though Quidditch wasn't that popular there. Someone I know loves Quidditch and he made me play with him sometimes- I played Keeper."

"Keeper?" Wood said, eyes brightening in interest, and I nodded wordlessly. He seemed surprised, but it seemed muted- like some part of him had expected it.

Honestly, my former experience as a Keeper was the only reason why I managed to score the three goals- as miserable as the number was. Behind me, the Weasley twins snickered and blood flooded my cheeks.

"Alright then. You can go now." Wood stated at last. I forced a smile on my face, uttering a thanks before I walked away, only stopping to retrieve my broom.

The moment I stepped off the pitch, I let out a groan as exhaustion and mortification struck me. I shuffled back to Gryffindor tower, feeling considerably down.

"Augurey." I mumbled, and the portrait to the common room swung open. I was surprised to see Seamus and Dean Thomas in the common room. I was admittedly more surprised that they seemed to be waiting for me.

"That was bloody _brilliant_ ," Dean breathed. "We were there, we saw-"

I blushed, feeling flattered, but knowing that I didn't deserve the high praise. Reckless moves always seemed impressive, but they certainly made you feel bad- at least if you somehow messed up even with the effects of adrenaline pumping through your body.

Seamus only spoke moments later, sounding surprisingly amicable.

"I had no idea you played. Been practising with me Mam since I was young and well, I haven't seen anyone fly like that since Potter."

A sort of uncharacteristic shyness overwhelmed me, and sheepishly I rubbed the back of my neck. "Thanks." I said genuinely, before my lips curled up in a grin and I couldn't help but add dryly. "Though I must say, almost dying was not on my agenda for today."

They snickered in response, and I found myself joining in with their laughter. As we laughed, my eyes caught Seamus' blue ones- and we burst out laughing again. It was an extremely strange exchange, but I assumed that we were all hyped up from Quidditch.

An hour later, I shooed them back to their dormitories, barely hiding my smile as I did so. I then headed up, stowed away my brooms, and left to take a shower.

I quickly wrote a letter to Mom- telling her about my Sorting and the try-outs, but leaving out the part where I almost died, of course. I decided that I would probably send it to her tomorrow, before promptly shoving the letter in between some textbooks for safekeeping.

Pulling out my books, I sat myself down at a corner of a common room. Studying was boring as hell, but sadly, it was necessary. Not to mention, Seamus and Dean didn't seem like they would be coming down anytime soon, and I wasn't so gutsy that I would dare sneak into the boys' dormitories without a reason.  
Finishing my notes for Transfiguration, I began to gather up my notes and books. Combing the series of books that Lockhart had gotten us to buy for what seemed to be the fifth time had proven to be not useful- there was barely enough information in there to create proper notes for studying. It seemed like I would have to borrow the previous year's textbook, if I actually wanted to get some studying done.

Shutting the _Year with the Yeti_ , I scowled at Lockhart's winking face on the book and stuck Spellotape over it. Bloody git.

It was then did the portrait swing open, and I realised in slight horror that it was the Quidditch team returning. Frantically, I scrambled to stack my books in order, wondering if there was any way I could escape upstairs before the lot of them came in.

Regrettably, I was too late. Fred and George Weasley came in first, swinging their bats, and I ducked back into my seat, reasoning that they would probably not notice me if I stayed quiet enough. I was sorely wrong.

"Oi, Greenwood!" They called in unison. "Like what you did with Lockhart's face there."

Blanching, I nearly slammed my notes over the books to hide Lockhart's covered up face before realising that I shouldn't care what anyone thought of me after seeing the books.

"Anyway, you should have seen Oliver's face after you left- " Fred spoke. At least, I thought it was him, considering that he seemed more vocal.

"Bloody git looked like so happy, he did," George commented.

"He almost looked like he was in love, we haven't seen him like that since Harry!" Fred interceded again, and the pair of them sent identical grins my way. I flushed, unsure if that was meant to be mocking or simply humorous.

At that moment, Oliver Wood stepped into the common room, followed by the rest of the team.

Speak of the devil.

"Who are you talking to, Fred, George?" Wood asked, frowning, before he turned towards me and his eyes widened. Immediately, he hurried over to where I was hidin- sitting.

"Greenwood! Just who I wanted to see," his mouth lifted in a grin, and I grudgingly admitted to myself that he seemed nice enough and thus I shouldn't be afraid of the news of failure. "Just wanted to say, the team was rather impressed with you just now- I like what you did with Lockhart's face, by the way- and our first practice will be tomorrow, at exactly six in the morning. Don't be late."

Wood slapped me on the back, and my eyes widened back at him. "W-wait, what?" I choked in disbelief. "You don't mean to say..."

Wood rolled his eyes, though the corner of his mouth was still lifted good-naturedly. "Well, you made the reserves, love." He drawled, and my cheeks burned.

"I made it?" I muttered in disbelief. "Merlin, I made it."

"Yes, you did." Wood patted me on the head, as if understanding my feelings of pure shock, before he glanced up at the staircase of the dormitories. Someone was calling him, it seemed.

"Coming," he called back, and made to leave, but something stopped him. Walking back towards me, he began searching his robes for something. Moments later, he pulled something out.

"I nearly forgot," he said as he pulled out a worn glove that I recognised as mine. "You left this at the pitch."

Stunned, I took the glove. I vaguely remembered taking it off and tossing it somewhere to get the Quaffle from Alicia, but I had evidently neglected to take it afterwards.

"Oh." I said, for the lack of words to express my annoyance at myself for forgetting. I then looked up at him and smiled. "Thanks for returning this, Wood. Honestly, I would have freaked if this ever went missing for good."

Wood whistled. "Nothing's more comfortable like a well-worn glove, right?" He didn't wait for a response. Instead he took a step backwards and beamed down at me.

"Well, I'll see you soon," He said, raising his hand.

"See you," I couldn't help but smile as I returned the gesture, before I added hastily. "And thanks again."

"Anytime, Greenwood."

He smiled once more before turning away and vanishing into the dormitories.

The moment he was gone, I yawned and glanced around, a small smile growing on my lips. Harry had just sauntered in, looking reasonably bleary-eyed and the rest of the team had already returned to their dorms, with the exception of Fred and George. They were sending me a strange look from where they stood and I glanced at them, frowning.

"What is it?" I said.

They waved it off. "It's nothing, Green _wood_." Fred said, sending me a wink.

Both of their flaming heads vanished into the boys' dormitories moments later, leaving me greatly unsettled by the terrible excuse of a pun they just made with my last name.

I rolled my eyes, and proceeded on to more important tasks: namely Spellotape-ing every last one those goddamn Gilderoy Lockhart books in my possession.

.

* * *

 **In which Rhia grows tired of seeing Lockhart's face after a day on the pitch.**


	5. Chapter 4

Chapter Four; Salutations

* * *

 **.**

Quidditch was honestly the only thing I would be willing to sacrifice sleep for. Getting up at the crack of dawn wasn't the most enjoyable way to starting off a new day, anyway.

Sighing, I winced as I stretched, hearing the cracks that came from my joints as I got up. After washing up, I donned my robes, grabbing my broomstick and headed out. I had been already halfway to the pitch when I realised that I forgot my gloves. Damn it. Mornings made me feel more blur than I would have liked.

Turning back, I walked back to the portrait hole, grumbling out the password. The Fat Lady was unpleased with being woken up so early in the morning.

"Sorry." I muttered. "Quidditch stuff."

Climbing back up the stairs, I tiptoed past the sleeping girls in the dormitory, feeling somewhat envious, before I retrieved my gloves from my bedside table and realised that not only had I left my gloves, I had also left my wand. Scolding myself, I slipped my wand into my robes and the gloves over my hands before I decided to scribble a note to Hermione in case she wondered where I went, telling her to tell Dean and Seamus where I had disappeared to for me. I then headed back out, creeping into the common room. I was almost certain that it was already six.

Wood would kill me for being late, I knew it. He seemed the type.

 _Though_ , I thought as I glanced at the figure that descended from the boy's dormitories, _I guess he couldn't kill me if he was still here._

"What are you still doing here, Greenwood?" He asked, and I stared at him.

"I was already on the way, but then I realised that I forgot my gloves," I held up my hands, before glancing back at him quizzically. "You?"

"I forgot to tell Harry. Just woke him up, in fact." He responded. "Better get going, it won't be good if I'm late."

Wood broke into a sprint towards the pitch, and I trailed behind him, feeling amazed at his level of energy.

A realisation hit me. I was a reserve- I probably didn't even need my gloves today. Gosh, I was so stupid.

Wood sat us in the changing room- I made out another reserve beater, but that was it. Did that mean that Wood was confident in all of the team members to keep themselves safe before matches?

He began to talk, and I had to continuously pinch myself to keep myself awake. Soon, he brought out some boards, and with every tap of his wand arrows would wiggle over the board, reminding me of a bunch of hungry caterpillars. Harry stumbled in some fifteen minutes later, and I shot him a smile.

Wood brought out board after board, lecturing us on the tactics he had in mind. Even though I was awake and listening, watching the squiggly lines move across the board made it confusing. In the end, I had to take a few minutes to digest what Wood had said.

Finally, Wood stopped, and pretty much the whole room jerked awake. "So, is that clear? Any questions?"

I shook my head, but one of the twins- George, if I was not wrong, woke up with a start and asked Wood why he couldn't have just told us the strategies yesterday. Needless to say, Wood was not the least bit pleased. He seemed to recall the previous year's defeat, and was quite clearly tortured by the memory.

We set out finally, and I felt pretty motivated by Wood's ending speech- even though my legs were sore and stiff from sitting for so long. Kicking off, I began to warm up, racing after Harry and the twins. I caught sight of Ron and Hermione in the stands, and I caught sight of the first year boy Colin Creevey, who I recognised because of that strange thing he held- I believe that it's called a camera. It might have just been my imagination, but I thought that I caught sight of sandy-coloured hair.

As I was turning back in, however, Wood had dismounted onto the ground roughly, and was storming towards a group of green-clad Slytherins in anger.

Following suit, I landed and shuffled up next to Katie Bell, too short to see past their towering figures.

"What's going on?" I whispered. Katie sent a glance towards the Slytherins, looking concerned.

"The Slytherins- they're using the pitch too, even though Oliver booked it for today. Seems like it's Professor Snape's doing." She said, looking towards the group concernedly.

My eyes widened. I had known that Severus was the head of Slytherin, but I didn't think that he would be the sort to use his power in the Slytherin's favour. Though, judging from the bitter looks the Gryffindors were sending the Slytherins on the pitch, this was a common occurrence. Mom had known him since she was little and she often talked highly of him, but here he was the cause of all this inconvenience.

"Thanks, Katie. Want to check it out?" I asked. I hurried away towards them as she shook her head, preferring to avoid any upcoming trouble.

Ron and Hermione- presumably concerned by the disturbance- had also made their way down to the pitch. I slipped over to where Harry was standing, and remained quiet.

The Slytherin Captain, Marcus Flint had stepped aside with a sneer, as did the rest of the team, parting to reveal a smaller boy, who was extremely recognisable to me with his haughty features and white-blonde hair.

He turned towards Ron, who had been confused about the occurrence. Proudly, Malfoy disclosed his new position as the Slytherin Seeker. He rattled off about the Nimbus Two Thousand and Ones that had been bought by his father and insulted the Cleansweeps that most of the Gryffindor Team had.

I fixed my stare on him, disturbed that Malfoy settled into the position of a bully so easily. Undoubtedly, he had been assuming this role since he stepped into Hogwarts- which also happened to be when he stopped replying to my letters.

(Yes, I was still bitter about this.)

My family had always been ambiguous in our stance regarding pure-blood supremacy. My grandparents had enforced it strongly- and as a result, my mother had believed in pure-blood supremacy in her childhood as well. Sometime after she graduated, she married my father, whom I have never met, but Mom told me he was an Auror. This led me to believe that she changed her mind, considering that she had never attempted to bring me up me with the same beliefs.

We used to be somewhat friendly with the Malfoys. They invited us over to dinner often, which was how I met Draco. I had been coming over to visit them since I was seven. I assumed that Mom had assumed a neutral front with them- until she made friends with Arthur, and subsequently Molly Weasley recently.  
Needless to say, the Malfoys then branded us as blood traitors. I did not care much for them- with the exception of Draco.

"At least no one on the Gryffindor had to buy their way in," I heard Hermione snap. " _They_ got in on pure talent."

I watched, shell-shocked at Hermione's courage, but I was expected the worst from Draco- his expression said it all.

"No one asked your opinion, you filthy little _Mudblood_." Draco spat, and my eyes widened- less at his outburst, but more at the word he had used.

An outroar ensued, and something roared within me as I stared on, feeling stunned. Fury. Shock. And last but not least, disappointment that this was the level a former friend had sunk to. I stared on hardly, and distracted myself by toying with the idea of how satisfying a punch to Malfoy's face would feel. I remembered then that Severus favoured Malfoy, and would be more than willing to write to Mom if I stepped out of line.

There was a scramble as Flint hastily tried to defend his Seeker from Fred and George. Alicia shrieked in outrage, and Ron shot a spell at Malfoy with a bang and-

I gasped, remembering that Ron's wand was broken. The spell shot out the wrong way and hit Ron squarely in the chest. He was sent reeling into the grass, and began puking out slugs by the hand of his own wand. Hurriedly, Hermione and Harry proceeded to bring him to get help. As I watched them go, something burned in me other than sympathy. Maybe, it was lucky that Ron's wand had been broken. For a hex like that, he would have certainly gotten into trouble- even though it was in my opinion that the rubbish that Malfoy spew was no better than slugs.

I found myself in front of Malfoy, who was doubled over in hysterical laughter.

"And what makes _your_ opinion so special, Malfoy?" I spat, a sort of cold fury bubbling within me.

There was a bitter feeling in my mouth. Honestly, I didn't like this. I didn't like being angry at people I cared about. I didn't like the fact that Draco Malfoy had sunk so low. I didn't like the fact that he would probably sink even lower.

Malfoy looked up, grey eyes glimmering with hostility.

"For one, I'm not a filthy blood-traitor like you," he hissed lowly.

I took a step back. Unwelcome tears stung at my eyes, but I blinked them back. Baring weakness in front of the Slytherins would be like jumping into a pond with Grindylows. Not only was that a bad idea, it would be like I was admitting defeat.

Malfoy caught sight of my shinier-than-usual eyes and as if to defend myself, my gaze hardened. I opened my mouth, wanting to retort and shoot back a retaliation, and I was compelled to say the most venomous things, poke fun at his insecurities and watch him crumble.

But I didn't.

My mouth closed and I could see him almost launch onto a triumphant expression.

(I would not let him have that satisfaction, however.)

"Is that the best you could come up with?" I remarked coolly. "How far you've fallen, Malfoy."

I turned away and let my footsteps echo into the tense silence. Some fights were just not worth fighting. Regretfully, I got the feeling that every disagreement with Malfoy would fall under that category. Maybe, just maybe, it was better to stop regarding him as Draco, my old friend, but instead Malfoy, the schoolyard bully. In any case, it would make it that much easier for me.

My eyes smarted as I avoided the gaze of the team, blinking away the rest of my unshed tears before I looked back up determinedly.

For all our differences, I had to admit that Malfoy and I did have things in common- we were both prideful, and we were both bloody idiots.

Walking back to where the team stood, I looked away from the sympathetic look Angelina sent me. Someone stepped up beside me and I glanced over. It was Oliver, who looked frustrated beyond words.

"Practice is over," He called, sounding crushed. The poor lad had obviously been looking forward to putting his strategies into place. "No point practising when the enemy is right here."

The heavy atmosphere over the entire team settled over even as we headed back into the changing rooms silently. With an equally heavy heart, I gripped onto the handle of my broom tightly, and had the most insane desire to break it and watch it smash into pieces.

I glanced at Oliver, who seemed the most downcast, and I hurried after him.

"Wood," I began hesitantly. "I didn't catch the last part about the formation of the Chasers. If it's not too much trouble, do you mind explaining again?"

Lies. I had understood his strategies well, but as I watched a sort of spark relight in Oliver's eyes I decided that listening to his lecture again was more than worth it.

.

When we got back to the common room, I thanked Oliver and waved the rest of the team goodbye, before I noticed Seamus sitting by himself in the corner.

"Hey, Finnigan." I greeted. Tentatively, I took a seat opposite him. "What's up?"

Seamus was slumped over a parchment, twirling his quill in his hand. It flicked ink onto his forehead every time he twirled it.

"Transfiguration," he let out a groan. "McGonagall wants me to write five inches."

(Seamus had earned the misfortune of being assigned extra homework because he blew up his beetle.)

"It's not that bad," I responded, leaning over to see that his parchment was blank. "Write down the name of the spell first. I can help you with stuff after that."

He scribbled it down. I squinted down at his words and sighed. "Write bigger, Finnigan. And space out your words more."

"And what? Get told off for enlarging my words?" He scoffed in response.

"Not if you write longer than three inches." I shot back.

Seamus looked disgusted. "What's the point, then?"

I rolled my eyes. "To please her, of course. It would be bad if Professor went blind trying to read your essay."

Seamus looked unimpressed. I sighed and waved it off. "Bloody hell, I'm kidding. Don't look so foul. I know what to write, okay?"

He straightened up at that, and I frowned in concentration.

"First, you want to write about the similarities in structure. Both buttons and beetles are solids." I explained, and he wrote it down. I was rather pleased at his initiative as he began to write out his own explanation in addition to what I had already said.

I glanced over at him, my fingers tapping the table. "Secondly, does the button you have in mind have a similar size and colour to the beetle?" I asked, and he nodded.

"Good," I grinned. "Write that down, it's useful for the visualisation. Makes it easier for you to transfigure the bloody thing, too."

He scribbled in that as an after note and I cleared my throat. "Then, apply the formula- "

"Wait, what?" Seamus looked lost. "What formula?"

I sighed, picking up his quill. The end was singed, and I awkwardly pulled over the parchment and scribbled down the general formula to Transfiguration below what he had already wrote.

"This formula." I explained patiently. "It's in the Transfiguration textbook for first-years."

He stared down at the parchment, blue eyes wide with astonishment. I couldn't help but laugh, shoving the parchment and quill back towards him.

I had to admit, his priceless expression was pretty cute, though I had no idea how he managed to pull through Transfiguration last year if he didn't know that there was a formula to doing it.

"What did you expect?" I teased, lips curling into a grin. "Transfiguration _is_ scientific, y'know. You don't just, I don't know, poke your beetle and hope for something to happen."

Seamus turned away. Over the dim light from the crackling fire I made out the vivid shade of pink his face turned and my mouth fell open. I stared at him in shocked silence.

 _No way._

"You mean that's how you've been living through Transfiguration?" I asked, feeling horrified. He nodded slowly, and I sighed, rubbing my forehead. "Well. I see. No way to go but up, right?"

As it turned out, Seamus was quick to catch on. The moment he had the formula, it was like he had attained some sort of enlightenment. He was quick to draw his own conclusions about the formula and how it applied to the beetle and the button. When he was done, a satisfied grin flashed across his face as he threw down his quill, splattering more ink over himself in the process.

" _Tergeo_ ," I muttered, waving my wand towards his face lazily. The various splatters of ink siphoned off his face and vanished promptly.

Deciding to leave before things got awkward, I got up from the table, resigning to go read in the dormitory upstairs until someone else showed up. Glancing at Seamus, I decided that I felt more friendly towards him than I had a day ago.

Clearing my throat softly, I shifted around on my feet and glanced at him, before I finally decided to speak.

"Well, see you later, I guess. Say hi to Dean for me."

I was already walking away when I could've sworn that I heard a muttered 'thanks', and I would be lying if I said that the entire exchange with Seamus hadn't improved my mood somewhat.

Now that no one was in sight, I couldn't help but contemplate over what was surely a broken friendship. Draco Malfoy evidently didn't need or want me in his life anymore, and as much as I hated to admit it, I didn't exactly need him in mine. Not anymore. There was a part within me which foolishly wanted him to apologise for everything he has done but I knew better than to expect anything like that, if his hostile behaviour towards me was any sign. I shook away the thought, considering that miracles didn't just happen for no reason.

Though upon furhter contemplation, I realised that what I wanted was not an apology, but an explanation to why he was acting like this.

The words 'mudblood' and 'blood traitor' rang in my head almost persistently as a cold feeling descended in my stomach. Getting up, I found myself wandering the halls- which was not a wise choice, considering I barely knew my way around the school. It was almost as if I was in a trance as I allowed my legs to carry me off to some place full of the dark unknown.

My eyes snapped back into focus, and I found myself somewhere that was not completely foreign.

The place I was now in was dark and dimly-lit, with the torches having a green afterglow. It was the place where one had to go for Potions- the dungeons. With this realisation, I immediately stopped. In all honesty, this was the last place a Gryffindor like me should be found in.

Looking around, my eyes settled onto a door. In the dim lighting, I barely made out the words 'Office of Professor Severus Snape'.

It seemed that I had found him unintentionally, but since I was already here, I might as well go for it, right?

Stepping forward and ignoring my feelings of hesitation, I raised my hand and gave the door a knock. A long moment of silence ensued. I was about to turn away when I heard a familiar voice speak.

"Come in," it said, and the door swung open almost mechanically.

Stepping in quietly, I first noticed the numerous amount of jars in the office. Then, I noticed how dim the office seemed to be. I then walked forward, eyes looking around before I saw him.

Sitting at his table, and grading what seemed to be a stack of essays, was Severus Snape. With greasy-looking black hair and dark billowing robes, he looked more tired and broody than the last time I had seen him years ago. Sensing my intrusion, he stopped his grading and looked upwards at me, his countenance emotionless.

"I see that you have made it here at last, Miss Greenwood." Severus spoke, his voice sounding cold. For as long as I could remember, his voice had always sounded like that, even when he conversed with my mother.

"What brings you to my office?" He asked. I was inwardly glad that he had not asked for me to sit down, as that would mean staying and talking for a long time. And Merlin knows Severus could launch into such long lectures when he felt like it.

Upon hearing his question though, I froze. Why had I come here, anyway?

The answer came to me easily, somehow.

"I wanted to say hi, sir." I said, hoping he would buy it, before I carefully tread on the issue that was actually on my mind. "Also, I wanted to bring up something about one of your students."

From what I had noticed, he seemed to hold his students highly in regard over the students of the other Houses, if the incident by the pitch was anything to go by. Not to mention, he seemed to be especially biased against Gryffindor students, if his attitude to the Golden Trio during Potions was anything to go by. He barely admonished me, however, even though I was horrendous in potion making, something that bothered me- though just a little. Severus was a terrifying teacher.

He stopped in his scribbling, and black eyes- that highly resembled my grandmother's, I might add- turned onto me.

"And might I ask," he began, "which student in particular are you referring to? I have many students in my house, Miss Greenwood."

I flinched at him calling me by my surname, before I realised that he had done so for the same reason I called him 'sir'. It would not reflect well on Severus if he seemed to be on close terms with a student, even if she was distantly related to him.

"Draco Malfoy." I confessed, and I knew that I had gotten his attention. "Earlier today, at the Quidditch pitch, he called Hermione Granger a Mudblood, sir. I feel concerned that such insults seem to be condoned here."

I decided to leave out the part about him dubbing me a blood traitor- he had hurt Hermione greatly, and that was unacceptable. Moreover, Severus was well aware that Malfoy and I were friends from childhood. He would have already guessed that I was at odds with Draco just from the way I brought him up earlier. How I had spoken of him like a stranger would.

"As a matter of fact," Severus spoke after a moment of silence. "That is unacceptable. I will speak to him regarding this personally, but in the meantime I suggest you avoid any more of such disagreements, Miss Greenwood."

I blanched at that. How was I going to do that, considering Malfoy seemed to think it was his duty to pick fights every day? It took me great restraint to refrain from rebutting that statement, and instead I nodded.

"I'll try." I promised half-heartedly, feeling miserable.

Severus nodded curtly. "Have you written to your mother regarding your Sorting?"

My expression must have given it away, as I guiltily recalled the unsent letter that I had scribbled in five minutes and stowed away somewhere- I couldn't recall. Was it a textbook or a Lockhart book?

Severus let out a sigh.

"I thought so. Amanda already knows that you are currently in Gryffindor. She is rather proud of you," He spoke, before admitting. "Though I cannot say I feel the same."

I guess he really did not like Gryffindors much.

"Do make it a point to contact your mother more often. I have no time to keep her updated on your life happenings," Severus spoke severely, his tone clipped and mildly irritated, and I could only give a sheepish nod in response.

"Yes, sir. Sorry about that. Thanks for listening. I'll just go, now." I awkwardly waved and made towards the door, slipping out of his office. I could almost hear a heavy sigh as I did so.

 _Yes, because this is me._ I almost rolled my eyes at the bitter tone my inner monologue had taken on. _A problem child who has to g_ _et transferred, cannot go two days without her mother worrying about her, and whose relative gets headaches because of her. Just_ bloody _wonderful._

My footsteps echoing in the hallway, taking on a sort of fuming stride.

I went straight to dinner, but not after delivering a letter to my mother. After which, I sat next to Neville and joined him in eating my heart out, not paying attention to the looks sent towards me. I knew I would regret stuffing myself full in the near future when I got even heavier than I already was, but I just couldn't bring myself to care.

.

* * *

 **Of people acting like gits and awkward family meetings.**


	6. Chapter 5

**[trigger warnings for bullying and self-image issues]**

* * *

Chapter Five; Ominous Things

* * *

.

The following weeks passed without much incident. Instead, I met and was introduced to more people.

I had met Luna Lovegood, a Ravenclaw. Admittedly, I had no idea what the strange creatures she referred to were, but she was gentle in disposition. We had met when one of her small raddish earrings had come lose from where they hung from her ears. I certainly looked forward to talking to her again sometime. Talking to her was refreshing, to say the least. It was a nice change.

Her fellow Ravenclaws, Terry Boot and Anthony Goldstein seemed nice enough- they were undoubtedly intelligent. I hardly ever saw them around, though I played around with the idea of approaching them for help with studies if I had to. In the end, I decided against the idea- we were barely acquaintances, and I would rather not waste their time.

I was formally introduced to Percy Weasley and by extension, Penelope Clearwater, a Ravenclaw Prefect. I had been walking out of the Great Hall when I saw them- I could've sworn that Percy had his arms around her shoulders just a moment ago, but when I glanced back at them they were a respectable distance apart, with the sole evidence being the red that tinged Percy's ears.

Moving on, Ron had introduced me to Ginny Weasley, his sister who was a year below us. In all honesty, I would have cooed over how adorable and innocent-looking she looked- if I hadn't remembered how irritating it was to be called cute every time you opened your mouth to speak. It was embarrassing people to fawn over you like you were a baby kitten.

I was glad that that had not happened in Hogwarts so far- back in Beauxbatons, that had happened countless times a day. It had continued for nearly the entire time I had studied there- and was probably a driving factor why I didn't bother making friends with anyone there. I had to admit that the reason I hadn't had friends was not because of the people there at Beauxbatons, but rather because of me acting all anti-social. It was petty, I know, but having people pay attention to you only because of the way you looked was hurtful. Especially when they never gave you the time of the day otherwise. To me, the attention they gave me and the reasons behind it hadn't been flattering- I had no interest in hearing that I looked like someone's baby cousin or if I reminded them of a kitten. Though thankfully, after a while they had stopped trying to befriend me. I liked it better that way.

But I digressed.

Ginny Weasley was cute. End of story. I was surprised that she was such a quiet child, though- the Weasleys were a loud bunch, but Ginny was quiet. Considering that I had seen them before in the photo Mom sent me, I realised that Ginny looked much more comfortable- not to mention happier in the picture. Then again, maybe she was still adapting to life in Hogwarts.

What astounded me the most, however, was how fond I had grown of the Gryffindors in such a short duration. As promised, I wrote down my findings in a letter to Mom, feeling very much incredulous- Merlin, I found people that I actually liked! This had to be a bloody achievement.

.

 _Dear Mom,_

 _I'm feeling amazed, really. The people here are (mostly) likeable and friendly. Let me tell you about them, in fact. Before you mention it, however, don't scold me for analysing my friends because I know you do it too._

 _Hermione Granger is a know-it-all, but she's brilliant, resourceful and really caring. Ron Weasley has no tact nearly most of the time, but he's a good guy at heart- not to mention that he is impossibly good at Wizard's Chess. Harry Potter is the infamous Boy-Who-Lived and attracts trouble all the time (or so I heard), but he has this sort of kindness to him and he is so humble it's almost unbelievable. Dean is a joy to talk to- we could literally be comparing the differences between Quidditch and a Muggle sport called soccer, and counting the number of times his best friend set himself on fire. Neville is a timid, sweet boy, and I feel impossibly protective over him. Sometimes I look at him and see the look of immense determination on his face and I just have this feeling that he belongs more in Gryffindor than he thinks. Seamus is-_

My quill halted mid-sentence. Thank Merlin no one could read my mind or was reading my letter. It would be so embarrassing should anyone come across it and discover that I was gushing over my own housemates. Bluntly, I would rather not seem obsessed or creepy whenever possible.

Hence, I quickly finished up my last description about Seamus, feeling like I wouldn't be fair if I didn't describe him as honestly as I did the rest.

 _Seamus is a quite literally a fiery git. I'm kidding. He's alright, we sort of get along._

I hesitated, before I scribbled down another line about Oliver, as an image of his tall and burly frame flashed across my eyes.

 _Oliver Wood is my new Captain. Even though I'm just a reserve, he still makes sure that I'm kept up to date with what's happening. He's nice._

I groaned at my admission, and how cheesy the letter had turned, but I hastily signed off at the next line.

 _Anyway, I feel embarrassed admitting all this so not a word to anyone, Mom. Thanks for sending me here, it's a lot more interesting than at Beauxbatons. I haven't felt like this for a long time. Miss you._

 _Love, Rhia._

 _._

I read through the letter. I might as well have written with honey instead of ink. Even though the fact that it was sweet enough to make someone's teeth rot was distasteful to me, my lips decidedly curled up in sly appreciation. Perfect. Mom would absolutely _love_ reading this.

Immediately, I snuck off to the Owlery to borrow an owl to deliver this embarrassing letter far away from this school, and for good measure I stuck a wax seal over it. This letter would remain one of my deepest, darkest secrets for all eternity.

(On an after note, I felt bloody _ridiculous_ for even creating this letter.)

.

It was one of those rare mornings which did not involve Quidditch.

Nonetheless, I woke up on impulse and as I stared drearily at the ceiling above, I realised it was only six in the morning. Plopping down back on the bed, I closed my eyes in an attempt to return to the world of dreams. I was met with no such luck, for minutes later, I opened them again and let out a groan.

I was wide awake. What was I supposed to do now? It was only six and breakfast started at seven-thirty.

Sighing, I washed up, before picking up my books and preparing to leave for the common room or library instead, though not before I scribbled a note for Hermione (and anyone else who would wonder where I went).

Stepping downstairs, with my books in hand, I was about to walk out of the common room when I caught sight of a familiar small-sized girl with flaming red hair sitting at the very corner where I had sat in not that long ago.

"Couldn't sleep too, Ginny?" I spoke, walking over in curiosity. The said girl sat up with a start, eyes landing on me, looking startled.

Immediately, she shook her head, and she made to pull a small black book out of sight.

I spotted it, however, and noting the quill in her hand, I asked. "Writing a diary? There's nothing wrong with that, you know."

She stared back at me silently, and making a decision, I sat down near her, putting down my books and beginning to arrange them in the order I would read them later. I sent the young girl a glance.

Ginny had always seemed lonely. I couldn't fathom why, though I suppose it had to do with her shyness.

"How's school, Ginny? Are you coping well with your lessons?"

I felt uncannily like a Percy, but I was trying to start a conversation. Ginny glanced down, giving a small nod- I guess that meant to say that school was fine. I might just be paranoid, but the lack of verbal admission sort of gave me the impression that she was agreeing with the question for the sake of agreeing, rather than her actually being fine.

Maybe I was just reading too much into this. I should stop.

She did however speak up eventually, nodding towards the Transfiguration textbook that sat on the top of my pile of books.

"I think I need help with Transfiguration," she admitted softly. I perked up at the mention of Transfiguration, and immediately I smiled in response. Transfiguration was definitely a subject that was not easy, but I guess I liked the challenge that came with such a complex subject. I hadn't been all that great in the beginning, either- but with interest came motivation, and motivation meant that I actually studied for the subject.

"Sure. What do you need help with?" I asked, getting out a piece of parchment. Shifting around so that I sat opposite her, I begin to write out what I hoped would be helpful pointers in letting her understand Transfiguration better. I would stop by longer for certain topics, and I even drew her a small introduction mindmap to Transfiguration- which include the big topics that she would have to tackle this year and next year. To the best of my ability, I broke down the complex definitions and hoped that I had explained it properly.

Time flew past before I realised it, and looking around, people had begun descending the stairs into the common room to head to breakfast.

"Do you understand better now?" I asked handing her the stack of notes I had wrote out. She nodded quickly, accepting the bundle of notes, before beginning to speak.

"Thanks, Rhia." She said softly, and a warm feeling buzzed within me as I caught sight of the beginnings of a smile on her face.

"It's no problem, Ginny," I smiled, patting her lightly on her shoulder as I got up to leave for breakfast. "Look me up if you need help anytime, alright?"

Ginny nodded, looking significantly more cheerful. She gathered up the bundle of notes I wrote her, along with the small black book that she was writing in earlier, hugging both to her chest as she darted back into the dormitories.

I glanced after her fondly as she disappeared in a blur of red and black, before I set to gathering up my books. Ginny was certainly acting pretty secretive, though she was without a doubt a bright girl. The impression she gave me was that it was not that she did not understand what had been taught, but rather had no clue what was being taught at all- though she quickly proved that she could understand things quickly.

The echo of footsteps from the boys' dormitory told me that someone was currently making their way down. Squinting, I vaguely made out two familiar figures.

"Good morning," Dean spoke first, sending me a smile, which I returned.

"Morning." I called out, dropping my books into my bag, eyes settling on the sandy-haired wizard next to Dean. Sensing my gaze, Seamus gave me a nod in acknowledgement.

I beamed at him. Turning away, I settled into step in front of the pair as we headed down to breakfast.

"What are they doing?" I frowned. Hagrid was currently bringing in enormous pumpkins into the Great Hall, which looked cleaner and more polished up than usual.

"You mean you don't know?" Dean spoke. "They're preparing for the Halloween Feast tonight."

I gaped at the gigantic pumpkins, before everything clicked into place and I realised what day it was.

"Bloody hell," I groaned loudly, slapping my forehead in response. "How did I even forget? I'm an idiot."

Dean and Seamus exchanged snickers while I let out a sigh, sticking my jaw out at them in indignation. However, an especially unwelcome voice rang out and interrupted our banter.

"Why, you certainly look the part, Greenwood." The voice was high-pitched and irritatingly reminded me that of a mouse attempting to be... not a mouse.

Pansy Parkinson stood there, hands at her hips and an unpleasant curl to her lips. Beside her, I stiffened as I noticed Draco and his two companions not far head, evidently waiting for the pug-faced girl.

(On another note, I felt that pugs were adorable, much unlike the girl who stood before us.)

Biting my lip, I kept on walking. I wasn't especially enthused by the idea of dealing with her this early in the morning.

Pansy Parkinson had not gotten off my case ever since word got out about my little spats with Draco. That seemed to have put me on her list of targets for who to tease and humiliate.

Behind me, Seamus and Dean stopped, and I immediately shot them a warning glance. Maybe if we just ignored her, she would lose interest and go off.

Parkinson continued to run her mouth. "Fat, big-sized- you're no better than Longbottom."

I halted in my steps. Looking around, I was beyond relief when Neville was nowhere in sight- he did not have to have his self-esteem plunge even lower. I felt my hands curl up into fists as I whirled around, meeting her gaze coolly.

Considering that I was fond of Neville, being compared to him wasn't what stung- he was bloody adorable, in my opinion. As shallow as that sounded, it was solely being called 'fat' that had stung. I always have had issues with my unattractive appearance- my round, chubby face, my broad shoulders that made me look bigger than I actually was, and my overall lack in height that made me look even more like chubby midget. Parkinson's words hurt more than they should have, and I hated that a simple string of insults coming from someone like her made me feel more terrible about myself than I already did.

 _'Fat' is simply a descriptive word._ My inner voice soothed my angry, defensive thoughts. _You don't have to care about whatever kind of negative connotations it comes with._

In face of my silence, a smug look had crept onto her face and I glared at her, refusing to give the satisfaction she desired.

"Were those adjectives supposed to be insulting, now?" I spoke coldly. Her smug face didn't dissipate and seeing an idea flash in my mind, I seized the opportunity that had presented myself to me. Stepping forward so that the distance between us was smaller, I lowered my voice and forced sugar to coat my tone as I stated once again.

"On the other hand, Parkinson," I began, my lips curling up in spite of myself. "All of the words that I have in mind when I think of you are unflattering- not that I think of you much, but jut to name a few: rude, spoiled, thick, absolute _toxic_ \- I may be an idiot, but at least I'm not like you."

A series of 'oohs' punctuated the tension-filled silence and I looked at her, a fake smile plastered onto my face coldly. My eyes fell to several metres away, where Draco Malfoy had now stopped in his tracks and was listening in to the ensuing spitfire.

Parkinson turned a dark shade of red, the smile wiped clean off her face. I watched on, feeling way too smug as she seemed to swell, her features seeming to twist even more in her fury.

"How _dare_ you," She hissed, eyes staring at mine with loathing. I simply beamed back at her innocently, raising my shoulders in a shrug.

"Of course, this is just my honest opinion _,_ " My eyes swept over to Draco's, and I felt my lips curl upwards in spite of myself. "But I'm warning you, Parkinson, speak about Neville or anyone else like that ever again, and I _will_ make sure you hurt in more ways than one."

A sort of sick satisfaction befell me at the look in her wide eyes. I stared after her, almost unbelieving that I was the one who drove the insufferable Slytherin away, but feeling more than glad to see the whole lot of them walk away after that.

There were suddenly cheers, and I turned back around. I caught Seamus' eye, and both he and Dean grinned in unison as they shouted taunts at Parkinson's retreating back. They clapped me on the back, doubling up with laughter as they steered me into the Great Hall. Somewhere along the way, the uplifting sense of triumph faded away, and I found myself feeling worse than ever.

I couldn't help but let out a soft groan.

I had just sunk down to Parkinson's level. By retorting to her taunts, I was no better than her. I couldn't believe that I just downright- _threatened_ \- someone like that and so callously insulted her back, too. The fact that the words spilled out of my mouth so easily scared me too- I thought that I had better control over myself. But the longer I thought about it, the more my brain seemed to be justifying my actions, and the more I realised I wouldn't actually mind doing this again. It terrified me, watching my twisted mind justify my actions to be right, that Pansy Parkinson deserved being humiliated even though I could have very well ignored her and went on with my day.

Taking in a shaky breath, I attempted to sort out my thoughts.

Had Parkinson been in the wrong? The rude statement about Neville crossed my mind, and I agreed with the question. Certainly, she had been in the wrong. Had she deserved being insulted back? And by that statement, did she have it coming?

I considered that question almost solemnly, and somehow my mind couldn't stray away from the word 'fat'. I then remembered the look of hurt and rage on her face after that and felt confused immediately.

Yes. No.

Maybe.

 _Well,_ my mind drawled sardonically. _You have your answer._

.

The overall gloominess within me had persistently stuck for nearly the whole day.

However, my mood was significantly lifted during the Halloween Feast, when Seamus somehow managed to blow up his cup of pumpkin juice. As he sat there, cup smoking and his eyebrows charred, I scolded him lightly before waving my wand, cleaning up his face and cup. Seeing his stunned expression, I couldn't help but let out a chuckle.

Turning back to the Feast, I noticed Dean staring at us, an eyebrow raised and looking highly amused. Seamus caught sight of the expression and promptly turned away, murmuring an inaudible string of words.

"What?" I frowned, glancing sideways at him.

"I think he means to say thank you." Dean offered, smiling.

"That so?" I muttered, before grinning and prodding Seamus lightly in the shoulder. "You're welcome, then."

The sandy-haired boy in question glowered at Dean, before he looked away, shoving a potato into his mouth.

Meanwhile, Oliver Wood, who had been sitting a few seats away, frowned in my direction.

"You've been eating dessert all dinner," he commented, his voice disapproving. Opposite him, Fred and George caught wind of his remarks and began chortling.

"Honestly, Oliver, you sound like a mother." Fred teased.

"Maybe you're actually related to Greenwood- " George added, sending me an exaggerated wink.

Oliver scowled at the duo.

"Look here, you two," he began curtly. "Greenwood is the only reserve we have currently- that is, the only reserve we have who is attending our practices regularly."

I frowned, before I asked. "Isn't there another reserve? Matthew what's-his-name?"

Oliver sighed. "That one hasn't shown up for any practices since the first- that's why I want you to look after yourself."

"Aye, captain." I saluted in response, feeling confused over whether or not to feel touched at his concern. On one hand, he wanted me to look after my own well-being, but on the other, it was more due to the fact that I was the only active reserve on the team more than anything. I conveniently did not mention the fact that I planned on pulling an all-nighter later to study from him.

At my response, Oliver beamed at me and I couldn't help but beam back at him. In the background, Fred and George pretended to gag and childishly I stuck out my tongue at them.

I grinned, and was about to help myself to a second serving of pudding when Parkinson's voice seemed to worm its way into my mind once again. As much as the intrusion of her ghastly voice was unwelcome, it was too late to stop the effect of hearing her words again. Almost immediately, my head bowed and I put down my spoon, my appetite vanishing suddenly.

I closed my eyes and took in a shaky breath and not long later I began to doze off, almost dipping my head dangerously into my cup of pumpkin juice. I jerked awake just as everything on the tables vanished, signifying the end of the Feast. I hadn't realised that I was that worn-out from school.

Dean prodded me up from the table, looking just a tad bit concerned.

"Come on, we're heading back," he urged, and both of them dragged me away.

I snapped out from my stupor at that. Rubbing my eyes, I yawned, before hurriedly stepping in front of them.

"I'm awake now," I supplied. "C'mon, let's hurry before the crowd catches up with us."

With that, I dashed forward. Turning around, I shot them a grin- something about it felt hollow- before I hurried down the length of the corridor, certain that this was the way to the common room. Turning the corridor, what I saw made me stop dead in my tracks, and my eyes widened in horror.

"What's wrong?" I heard Seamus call as the both of them caught up with me- and they fell silent at the sight too.

Words were painted with blood onto the walls, and I felt my mind blank out as I processed their meaning.

.

 _THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS HAS BEEN OPENED._

 _ENEMIES OF THE HEIR, BEWARE._

 _._

Even as the words looked glimmered ominously in the quivering candlelight, the sick feeling in my stomach intensified as I recognised the lifeless being that was strung up next to the words like a morbid trophy.

Mrs Norris, Filch's cat hung lifelessly, her yellow eyes unseeing. A chill ran down my spine as I swallowed. When I spoke, my voice was soft and shaking.

"Harry?" I whispered, staring at the familiar boy with messy black hair. He stood the closest to Mrs Norris, with Ron and Hermione standing behind him, uncharacteristically silent.

If I didn't know any better, I would have been under the impression that Harry Potter, of all people, was the culprit.

The corridor soon became crowded as students from the Great Hall began shuffling in. Swallowing, I turned and met the eyes of Dean and Seamus. Everyone pushed and shoved in an attempt to see what was going on, only to inevitably go silent at the ghastly sight.

The whispers and hushed voices were punctuated as Draco Malfoy pushed his way to the front of the crowd, grey eyes flashing brightly like he was in for a treat. The corners of his lips curled up almost twistedly.

"Enemies of the Heir, beware?"

He looked around, as he made it a point to look at Hermione. "You'll be next, Mudbloods!"

Moments later, the staff had arrived at the corridor along with a distressed Filch. Staring at the back Severus' head, I wondered silently if he had any idea what was going on, but before long, we were hurried back to our dormitories. Dean and Seamus were equally silent as we headed back into the common room.

The Gryffindors stepped back to their common rooms in thick, gloomy silence, undoubtedly recalling the vivid image of splattered red words and deliberating the meaning behind the message that had been so ominously staining the walls.

"Good night." I muttered to the retreating backs of the duo before I went upstairs in a trance, the memory of Mrs Norris and the disturbing image of Draco's bright, excited eyes flashing across my mind much too vividly for my liking.

I ended up not sleeping a wink, instead launching myself mindlessly into work for the entire duration of the night.

.

* * *

 **A/N:**

 **Kudos if you picked up the foreshadowing in this chapter ;)**

 **I've read a lot of fics where the main character or OC never seems to have any problem with showing up a bully, or is never affected by what others say etcetera. This was my take on how Rhia would react as a character.**

 **(And yes, she fangirled over her friends in a letter. If you got embarrassed reading it, my job here is done.)**


	7. Chapter 6

Chapter Six; Ripples in the Pond

* * *

.

I yelped as I dove, and the sound of water hitting concrete echoed in the corridor as the wall beside me immediately became drenched. Turning around, I glared at the culprit.

"Peeves!" I growled. The offending resident poltergeist stuck out his tongue at me before proceeding to attempt to assault the whole group of Gryffindors with numerous buckets of ice-cold water.

He aimed one in my direction and frantically I ducked, protecting myself as best as I could. Alicia Spinnet ended up taking an entire bucket to her hair and as she was caught off guard, Peeves ruthlessly doused her with another. I quickly scurried away, not wanting him to turn his attention onto me.

The only reason I brought up this minor flashback was because it was what I believed to be the cause of Alicia's illness.

As it turned out, at the next practice, Oliver's expression was nearly as stormy as the weather.

"Alicia's got a nasty cold- which means that she's not going to be able to play in the match." He began, sounding as if he was trying to hide his distraught feelings. "And that means that Rhia is going to have stand in for her."

Looking around, I realised that Alicia was indeed absent. A sort of panic began to sink in- what if I messed up? We had a little less than three days left to train, which meant that I had to pull my own weight here- Katie and Angelina would be more used to playing with Alicia than me. Was three days really enough to be able to work out our plays properly?

Katie, a kind and gentle girl who in my opinion was too good for the world, patted me on the back sending me a smile.

"No worries, Rhia, it is going to be my first match too. Do Alicia proud, will you?" She said, smiling and feeling dazed, I nodded.

I loved Quidditch, of course. But there was no denying that a reason I was so motivated to do well in Quidditch was because of my intense feelings of admiration towards the people I dubbed the 'seniors' in Quidditch.

(And yes, Harry was included in the senior bunch, even though we were in the same year.)

"I'll do my best!" My voice came out sounding terribly like a squeak. Oliver chuckled at our exchange before setting us off to do warm-up rounds in the pouring rain. Even though the weather was absolutely horrendous, I was filled with the overwhelming desire to watch Slytherin taste terrible defeat after what they had pulled during the practice so long ago.

Saturday soon arrived, and with Alicia still out of commission, it seemed that I was definitely going to have to play in her place. As I got up early for practice, I left a note on my pillow as always. I then considered the fact that I should be more considerate towards my buddies, before I duplicated my note and slinked off into the boy's dormitories- something I would not have dared to do a few months ago.

Harry, who was getting ready, raised an eyebrow at my intrusion. I shushed him quickly before I snuck over to Dean's bedside table where I stuck the note. As I scanned through the note, however, I realised that it seemed too formal for Dean and Seamus.

 _To whomever it may concern,_  
 _If you wish to find me, I will be at the Quidditch Pitch. Kindly please do not move this note._  
 _-Rhiannon Greenwood_

Frowning, I tapped it once with my wand, and the words began to morph and shift into a letter than I deemed to be more acceptable.

 _Deamus:_  
 _I'm off to Quidditch now, sweethearts. It would be nice to see your lovely faces at the match, I'll love you forever if you cheer for us!_  
 _xoxo,_  
 _(you-know-who)_

The note was short, overly-sweet and annoying to read. To a random stranger, I would seem like a clingy girlfriend, though in my mind I could see Dean shaking his head and rolling his eyes exasperatedly at the letter. As a result, I liked it immensely.

Making sure it was in plain sight, I stepped away, about to walk off when I heard the most adorable snore ever.

Glancing over to where Seamus was soundly sleeping at the bed nearest to Dean's, I laughed softly at how innocent the duo appeared when they were sleeping, before hurriedly following Harry out of the dormitories. He looked at me with a strange expression, with judgement evident in his features.

I rolled my eyes.

"C'mon, Harry, you can't say you're not overly-fond of two people in your life, too." I said in my defense. Upon hearing that, Harry coughed, uncomfortable and slightly pink. He didn't deny it, though.

The moment we got to the Great Hall, the rest of the team were already there, very much silent and uptight. Staring at the variety of breakfast, I realised that in spite of my love of food, I didn't feel hungry at all. I haven't been feeling hungry for a while now, though it might have just been the pressure of being a last-minute substitute.

Instead, I rested my face against my arms on the table, closing my eyes and taking in a deep breath. Peering at my fingertips under the table, I realised that they were shaking. In response, I squeezed my eyes closed even more tightly as I wished for the suffocating nauseous feeling to just go away already.

Oliver looked over from where he sat, also not eating anything.

"Greenwood, you have to eat if you want to have energy for the game." He chastised lightly, though not with ill intentions. I sat up to face him, refraining from scowling.

"I'll eat if you do, captain." I responded tiredly. I would have laughed at the look of astonishment on his features if I hadn't felt so sullen from the tension.

Reluctantly, he began to eat some scrambled eggs and I nearly smiled, before keeping to my word and grabbing a pancake to eat. It was all I took, however, because I didn't relish the idea of vomiting over my fellow team members later while speeding along in the air.

As we then made our way to the changing rooms, I noticed that Ron and Hermione had gathered there to wish Harry good luck for the match. They noticed me after a few seconds and in response I raised my hand as I sent them a wave. I then cracked up in a smile as Ron sent me a good luck sign, with Hermione beaming at me from beside him.

For some reason, that tiny gesture made me feel a bit better.

Oliver sat us down after we were done changing into our robes. I looked washed out compared to the bright red robes I wore, but didn't really care- instead I fastened the elastic around my hair tighter so that it wouldn't come undone during the game.

"Slytherin have better brooms than us, that's for sure," Oliver began. "But we've got better people on our brooms. We've trained harder than they have, we've been flying in all sorts of weathers- and we're going to make them regret the day they let that little bit of slime, Malfoy, buy his way onto the team."

Hearing Oliver refer to Draco as a 'little bit of slime' cracked me up admittedly as I imagined Malfoy as a bouncing green ball of goop. I had to admit that while it seemed like Draco bought his way onto the team, he did have some aptitude for Quidditch- something that I had witnessed while playing with him over the years.

Wood was currently telling Harry to "get to that Snitch before Malfoy or die trying."

"So no pressure," Fred added jokingly, winking at the black-haired wizard.

"Die trying? That's a shame, Harry," I joined in, miming tears trailing down from my eyes. "I've grown pretty fond of you, after all."

Harry chortled and sent us an expression of half-mirth and half-exasperation, but looked noticeably less stiff. I saluted him and hurried away, heaving a sigh as soon as I was out of his sight.

I was certainly one to talk. I felt like vomitting again. I began to pace around to dispel my own nerves out of habit and my knuckles looked impossible pale from how hard they were gripping my broomstick. Immediately, I loosed my grip and started shaking out the tension in my hand.

"Nervous?"

Upon hearing the familiar voice, I looked up to see Wood.

"Not really." I responded dryly, attempting to shrug it off with a laugh. He saw through my act, however.

"Don't be. Stick to the formation and you'll be fine," He muttered, though it felt like he was reassuring himself. "If it makes you feel better, Alicia will be watching from the Hospital Wing."

Smiling, he placed his hand on the top of my head and I scowled at him. One thing about being a midget was that everyone else seemed to like putting their hands on you. Though I had to admit, I did feel better now that I knew that Alicia would be supporting us. Wood's gesture was surprisingly sweet, honestly speaking.

The corners of my lips curled up slightly and I smiled at him.

"Alright then," I said, trying not to sound sarcastic. "Thanks, captain."

As we walked out onto the pitch, I looked up towards the Gryffindor stands, distantly making out the iconic combination of dark and sandy hair in the front stands. Beaming, my grip on my broom tightened as I watched Wood step forward to shake hands with Marcus Flint, the Slytherin Captain.

Doing some last-minute stretches, I mounted my Nimbus Two Thousand and launched into the air as Madam Hooch blew her whistle.

I tuned out the noise of the crowd and Lee Jordan's commentary. Katie had managed to get the Quaffle, and I quickly sped into formation so that I was a few meters diagonal of where she was. As I caught it, I turned and began to speed off towards the goals. To my annoyance, Adrian Pucey rammed into my side, getting possession of the Quaffle, however the contact had barely lasted a few seconds and was overlooked by Madam Hooch.

Gritting my teeth, I sped off after him, hitting the Quaffle out of his grasp as I got away from him, tossing the Quaffle to Angelina.

She immediately took off, Quaffle firmly tucked into her hands and just as she raised her hands to throw the Quaffle through a hoop, a Bludger came and knocked into her side, causing the Quaffle to fall out of her arms and back into Slytherin possession.

I winced, knowing that that blow must've hurt. Looking around the Slytherin end of the pitch, I wondered where Fred and George were. Frowning, I took after the Slytherin currently in possession of the Quaffle. To my frustration, it seemed that the differences between their new brooms and our brooms were beginning to show- every time I had managed to catch up to the person with the Quaffle, I was forced to dodge a Bludger, by the time which the Slytherin Chasers would have already scored.

I had managed to regain the Quaffle once, but just as I was about to shoot, a Bludger hit me and I would have gotten knocked off my broom if my gloved hand hadn't been holding it. Not only that, it had began to rain, which put everyone- with the exception of the Slytherins in a foul mood. I, for one, glowered at the smug look that was sent to me by Malfoy as he sped past me while looking for the Snitch.

With Slytherin in the lead sixty to zero, I was relieved at the time-out that was called, and I headed to the ground, ignoring the jeering Slytherins up in the stands.

I looked at Wood, swallowing down the feelings of frustration and demoralisation.

"What's going on? We're being flattened." He said, and I stared down at the floor. "Fred, George, where were you when that Bludger stopped our Chasers from scoring?"

As it turned out, the other Bludger wouldn't leave Harry alone. Fred and George had been beating it away from him the whole game and from the looks of it, the Slytherins had done something to rig them.

An argument ensued as Fred, George and Katie admonished Harry's wish for them to let him deal with the Bludger on his own. I opened my mouth, but as I met Harry's angry eyes, I closed it and turned away, conflicted between his safety and the match, my eyes instead darting over to an approaching figure.

Madam Hooch had walked over.

As Wood caught sight of the determined look on Harry's face, he seemed to have come to a resolution.

"All right." Oliver spoke. "Fred, George, you heard Harry- leave him alone and let him deal with the Bludger on his own."

I swallowed in unease, speaking up at last.

"You be careful, Harry." My voice came out softer than I would have liked it to. I didn't wait for a reply, instead kicking off onto my broom, feeling determined to score. I just had to believe that Harry would get out of this mess alright, and focus on scoring for Gryffindor.

Looking up, I saw Fred hit a Bludger in the direction of Adrian Pucey, allowing Angelina to get possession of the Quaffle. She surged forward towards me and I deftly caught it, holding onto it tightly as I weaved in between players in a zigzag manner in an attempt to throw off any unfriendly Chasers- Slytherins may have speed, but that didn't mean that they had technique.

Miraculously, I made it to the scoring area as I feinted and knocked the Quaffle into the uppermost hoop, grinning at the displeased expression on Flint's face.

A familiar feeling of exhilaration burned within me. It was the turn-around for Gryffindor- I could feel it.

Quickly glancing at Harry, a feeling of relief flooded me as he seemed to be doing a good job evading the rogue Bludger so far. Falling into formation with Katie and Angelina, we tossed the Quaffle to each other everytime one of us got cornered by a Slytherin. Carefully stopping outside of scoring area, I had to restrain myself from cheering as Angelina easily scored us another goal. I met her eye and the corners of our lips curled simultaneously.

Katie was the next to score a goal after stealing the Quaffle back from a Slytherin Chaser. After which, I managed to score another one, followed by Katie and Angelina again respectively. The Slytherins managed to get one shot in, but that was quickly followed by a penalty which Angelina took.

Miraculously, we were now tied seventy to seventy. I glanced towards Harry, who was being confronted by Draco. For a moment, I thought that he had been lunging to attack Draco, before I realised that he was actually lunging for the tiny flicker of gold hovering inches above him-

With his hand firmly wrapped around the Snitch, Harry promptly lost his grasp on his broom and began plummeting towards the ground, hitting the ground with a sickening crack.

"Harry!" I found myself calling out belted towards the ground immediately and stepped towards him. He was barely conscious, but turned to look at the Snitch clutched in his good hand.

"Aha," he said simply. "We've won."

With that, he lost consciousness and I let out a sigh. The Gryffindor team had all landed and were crowded around Harry anxiously, with the exception of the twins who were wrestling the rogue Bludger back into its box. I shifted around in joy despite the fact that I had merely been a replacement in this game.

Frowning at a familiar small-looking boy, I started as there was a few small flashes of light.

"It's not very nice to be taking photos of Harry while he's unconscious, Colin." I told him off lightly, frowning in his direction. The younger boy jolted up almost apologetically and backed away, his Muggle camera by his side. Around that time, Gilderoy Lockhart came over and I began to scowl in spite of myself. Harry awakened soon after, and was currently frantically trying to get Lockhart to let him go to the hospital wing.

"He should really, Professor." Oliver stated and I jumped, having failed to realise that he had been beside me to whole time. He was covered in mud and I laughed softly at his overjoyed grin even though Harry was injured. "Great capture, Harry, your best yet I'd say."

I then decided to chime in, not really wanting to see Lockhart turn Harry's hand into a bloody tentacle or anything of the like.

"Please, sir." I started, though not expecting Lockhart to listen. "If Harry wants to go to the hospital wing, shouldn't you let him go?"

Harry sent a grateful look towards our direction, but soon began to splutter in protest as Lockhart promptly ignored us and advanced upon Harry, his wand brandished and his teeth glittering obnoxiously. He twirled his wand and directed it straight at Harry's arm.

My hands flew over my mouth as the people around me gasped. Instead, I resisted the urge to retch- Harry's wand looked like a flesh-coloured balloon that had been popped and deflated, and it lay limply and grotesquely out of shape by his side. It wasn't far-fetched to compare it to a tentacle.

"Don't look now, Harry," I muttered, unable to tear my eyes away from Harry's arm. "Um, your arm..."

Oliver made a similar noise of horror.

"Ah, that happens sometimes. But the point is, the bones are no longer broken, that's what matters, eh? So just go up to the hospital wing now, Harry- ah, Miss Granger, Mr Weasley, would you escort him- and Madam Pomfrey will er, tidy you up a bit." I heard Lockhart say.

Harry looked at his arm at this moment, and looked like he might die from a heart attack. Lockhart took his leave and I scowled after the back of his blond, brainless head.

Fred and George caught sight of my expression and began to snicker, seeming to remember the Spellotape incident though they seemed equally disgruntled at the lack of bones in Harry's arm.

I stormed towards where the Gryffindor team had gathered.

" _I- can't- believe- him!_ " I growled. "That airheaded- _git!_ " I bit out, feeling even more annoyed at the scandalised expressions that had appeared on Katie's and Angelina's expressions. I groaned inwardly, but didn't speak no more- when people had crushes, they generally didn't like hearing that the person of interest was not as amazing as they thought.

Wood was still grinning, though he seemed just a tiny bit put out by Lockhart's display of incompetence. "There, there, Rhia," he said and I straightened in surprise. He slung his arm around me, and I would be lying if I claimed that I didn't feel just the least bit embarrassed at the contact. "I have food from the last Hogsmeade trip, let's go celebrate with Harry."

Fred and George whistled at the idea and I simply nodded, flushing, though I hoped that the rain would somehow hide the unnatural pinkness in my cheeks. Soon, we were armed with food as we marched into the hospital wing, filthy and dripping wet. Instinctively, I frowned as I realised that Alicia Spinnet wasn't anywhere in sight.

"Unbelievable flying, Harry," George called out. "I've just seen Marcus Flint shouting at Malfoy. Something about having the Snitch above his head and not noticing- Malfoy didn't seem so happy."

Childishly, I grinned at Harry at that. Saying that I harbored a bit of resentment towards Draco for our falling out would be an understatement and it seemed that this was his retribution for his attitude towards Harry in particular. "You show him, mate." I stated, a smug feeling surfacing within me.

We were about to start partying right there and then when Madam Pomfrey appeared, glowering at the lot of us.

"This boy needs rest, he has thirty-three bones to regrow! Out! OUT!" She hollered, storming towards us and unceremoniously shoving us out. As soon as the last of us was out of the Hospital Wing, the large wooden doors slammed shut in our faces.

"Well," Oliver spoke, breaking the glum atmosphere. "I guess we move to the common room."

* * *

And so we did.

As the portrait door stepped open and I stepped foot inside after Fred and George, I beamed at the sight of Alicia, who looked well. She scowled at the lot of us, though in a joking manner.

"Didn't you all learn anything from what happened to me at all? Get out of those dripping robes, you have to be freezing." She stated, shooing us towards our dormitories. I loitered behind, feeling hesitant.

"Go," she stated more gently. "We can all celebrate later." I smiled at this and hurried up to the dormitories, throwing down my gloves and broom and relishing a hot shower. Twenty minutes later I reappeared at the common room, feeling elated to find that there were indeed Gryffindors celebrating in the common room.

A dark-haired wizard caught my eye and I immediately ran towards him, grinning. Dean turned around and returned my hug, laughing. Turning, I held out my arms to hug Seamus, but stopped abruptly, instead backing away and smiling at him. Things had always been more awkward with Seamus than with Dean. It was just like that.

I lost them in the tiny party that was now occurring. More and more people were streaming into the common room and staying. I found myself wandering about the room, eyes darting around in search of people from the Quidditch team.

Someone had begun to play music as it blasted throughout the room, and I immediately shifted to another goal in mind- find the person who was playing music, and make friends with them. Why, you ask? Because whoever was playing music had just put on 'No One Knows' by Green Day.

And I bloody _loved_ Green Day.

Darting in between random Gryffindors, I began to painstakingly make my way to the source of the music, squeezing my way into a clearing while furious muttering apologies to the people I ungraciously bumped into. Once I caught sight of who it was, I couldn't help but stop dead in my tracks, staring at the person who was playing music from what seemed to be a Muggle device.

"Wood?"

My voice came out to be more meek than I would have liked it to be. His eyes looked up to meet mine, and I continued, my voice going back to normal. I forced myself to laugh.

"You like Green Day?" I asked wide-eyed.

Oliver looked up, a similar look of disbelief on his face. He nodded, before responding. "Yeah. What about you?"

I nodded almost numbly, before opening my mouth, and closing it once more. Wood, however had spoke once more.

"I didn't expect that you listen to this stuff," he admitted. "You don't seem like the type."

Snapping up at that, I gaped- though I was not offended in the least. I could understand why he- or anyone- would get that impression. "What do you mean?"

Oliver looked uncomfortable admitting it, but he did anyway. "I was under the impression that you would like classical music, considering your personality."

I stared at him, feeling nonplussed and somewhat flattered. No one had said that about my taste of music before.

"I _am_ fond of classical music," I corrected gently, moving over to sit near him. "But I just like punk rock better."

The sing shifted at this point to 'Who Wrote Holden Caulfield?' and I whistled, before remarking. "I can't wait for the next album to come out. I heard that it's only releasing in two years."

He let out a groan at that, slumping over where he sat as he agreed. "That's _forever_."

There was a small pause, before I empathetically nodded, glad that I had found someone to share my pain with. "Come on, we have to stay strong for them. I- I don't know if I will survive, though." I mock-cried dramatically, earning a chuckle from Wood as his lips curled up in a grin.

"Don't worry, love," he drawled, dark eyes glimmering in mirth. "I won't let you die."

I found myself smiling as I met his eyes. "Why, thank you, kind sir." I spoke, mockingly taking a bow. As I looked over his shoulder however, I then caught sight of sandy hair disappearing in the crowd behind

"Well, I ought to get going. I think I saw Finnigan." I stated, beaming at him. Wood raised a hand almost lazily in farewell.

"See you at practice, Rhia." He smiled.

"Yeah," I said, still unused to him calling me by my nickname. "See you, Oliver."

I waved another time before turning away, eyes searching out the familiar sandy-haired wizard. When I couldn't see anything over the crowd, (being a midget), I instead darted towards the direction I had last seen him.

Finally I spotted him, quietly sliding up so that I was behind him.

"Hey, Finnigan." I lightly patted his shoulder from behind. "You lost Dean, too?"

Seamus turned around with a start, nearly stumbling. I laughed as I grabbed his arms and steadied him.

"Thanks." He said, eyes glimmering. "You know, that match just now was brilliant, Greenwood."

"Geez, thanks." I pretended to sound indifferent, though I couldn't help but smile. I joined him in leaning against the wall, before speaking once more. "I heard Malfoy got yelled at- that has _got_ to be the highlight of today."

Seamus' lips curled up in a grin. "Did you see his face when Harry grabbed the Snitch from right under his nose?"

"Must have been priceless," I chortled, though I felt a stab of guilt in spite of myself. it felt strange talking ill about someone so casually- though I would pretty much grow used to this soon. A few moments of silence passed before I glanced over and realised that he had been staring.

"...Sorry about that." He said, laughing sheepishly. "It's just- I've been meaning to ask you something."

I glanced at him, though I suddenly felt self-conscious under his gaze. "What is it, Finnigan?" I asked casually, a feeling of unease growing within me for no explainable reason. Seamus shifted, and looked up to meet my eyes with his blue-coloured ones.

"You and Malfoy were close, weren't you?" The question was sudden and unexpected, and I felt my eyes widen. How did he figure that out? I was sure that the tension between Malfoy and I but to be able figure out that we had a history... I composed myself, before bringing up my eyes to meet his once more.

He opened his mouth, and then closed it before shrugging. "Just wanted to confirm a hunch, you know? You don't have to tell me if you don't want to."

My mouth almost fell open at his answer, and I couldn't help but feel impressed. Seamus had always struck me as a loud guy with little reservations, who seemed to be more on the sloppy side, but I had to admit that I had not expected him to be so perceptive. His observational skills certainly surprised me.

If anyone else had asked me that question, I would have acted like a deer caught in the headlights. But this was Seamus, who had undoubtedly grown on me for the past few months. I

In spite of myself, a smile stretched upon my lips. It was more of a bittersweet smile more than anything, but nevertheless I met his curious gaze.

"Yeah," I responded softly. "You know how I went to France and came back?"

Seamus nodded and I continued. "Well, we're sort of childhood friends. You're right, we were close. He is actually the one who introduced me to Quidditch."

Somewhere along the way, a wistful feeling had began to grow within me along with bitter nostalgia, knowing that those were memories and nothing more. It was the first time I had confided in everyone about the estranged relationship Malfoy and I shared, and as a result I felt at a loss.

Seamus was silent. After a few moments, he nudged me in the shoulder in a slightly comforting manner.

"Must be tough, having your best mate become a stranger," he said, and once again I was struck by how accurately he hit the nail on the head. "I don't know what I would do without me best mates- mostly Dean, or you for that matter." He admitted after a pause, and I gaped at him as his words struck me.

Seamus and Dean were best mates- it was given that they cared greatly for each other. Though I had no idea that Seamus held me with such high regard and admittedly I was even taken aback. It seemed that Seamus was surprised at himself too, for there was a slight tinge of pink in his cheeks.

"Don't worry about it, Finnigan." I assured, beaming at him and feeling warm. "You know, you and Dean are really important to me too."

He smiled at that, and for a moment we just stood there, staring at each other. It felt like a wall between us had been torn down- I would admit that I hadn't been the most fond of him in the beginning, but here I was, discovering the amount of trust I had towards him. He was now undoubtedly someone I held close to my heart here in Hogwarts.

At that moment, Dean appeared, dark eyes glimmering and looking between the two of us questioningly.

"Am I missing something here?" He asked.

Flushing at that, I turned and sent a wink at Seamus, before turning to Dean and shifting my expression to a serious one.

"Yes, you are." I said, allowing my tone to turn solemn.

Stepping towards him, I placed my hand on his shoulder, pretending to take in a deep, troubled sigh.

"You see, both me and Finnigan here have just confessed our undying love towards you, Dean Thomas. You're going to have to choose." I continued regretfully.

I nodded seriously at him, and out of the corner of my eyes I could see Seamus barely keeping in his snorts of laughter.

Dean raised his hands in an 'I'm out' gesture, an incredulous look plastered on his features.

"I'm not getting involved in in whatever kind of weird situation this is," he began slowly, having the gall to look horrified. He then glanced at the both of us, shaking his head, before turning away and sighing heavily."Whatever is going on, you two sort it out by yourselves. I'm out."

With that, he made his escape by way of disappearing back upstairs without a word, leaving the both of us there, tearing up and doubling over in laughter.

.

* * *

 **In which a double confession is made.**


	8. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven; 'Tis the Season

* * *

.

The cheery atmosphere did not last for long, however.

Following the match, Colin Creevey had been found Petrified. It was terrifying, actually, as the fact that I had lightly told off the boy merely hours ago hit me but now he was lying in the Hospital Wing motionlessly. A sort of regretful feeling descended upon me- Colin must have sneaked out when the rest of us were partying, or at least after the rest of us had gone up to bed. Had anyone noticed him leaving and stopped him, perhaps something like this would not have happened to him.

An image of the tiny but beaming first-year boy appeared in my mind, and the thought that such a lively kid had been attacked dampened my spirits considerably.

The attacks did not stop there, however, as not long after the unmoving bodies of Justin Finch-Fletchley, a Hufflepuff that I knew from Herbology and Nearly Headless Nick, the Gryffindor ghost. Rumours spread around pointed at Harry being the culprit, due to the fact that he was a Parselmouth after an incident regarding Draco and his conjured snake during the Duelling Club- which was a miserable attempt set up by Lockhart that would help us defend ourselves.

(I didn't learn anything from Lockhart there other than the fact that Severus was better qualified for the job than Lockhart.)

I couldn't be help but be riddled with doubts about the rumours spreading around the school. Harry might be a magnet for trouble, but I just couldn't believe that he would attack Justin Finch-Fletchley like that for no confronting Harry, he stated that he had actually been stopping the snake from attacking Justin at the time, coupled with the vehement Hermione and Ron defending them. I believed them.

I had half a mind to demand the truth of what was going on from Severus, considering that he was a professor and had to know more about what was going on.

However, I never did manage to bring myself down to the dungeons again, mostly due to paranoia and unwillingness to head to where the Slytherins were. I did spend most of the time going up to the library in the morning, nearly leaving Seamus and Dean fed up with the amount of ' _I went here, I went there_ ' messages I left them each time I disappeared.

"I actually don't mind," Dean whispered to me one day after class as we gathered up our books. "But I think Seamus just doesn't like the idea of you running around by yourself."

I waved my hand dismissively at that, but I couldn't help smiling as the said sandy-haired wizard joined us as we walked off towards lunch.

"I'm pureblood, you know," I confided in the both of them. "You don't have to worry about me being attacked."

Ever since the attack on Justin, the three of us had grown paranoid over the attacks. Seamus tried to deny that he was worried, but that claim was squashed for we always made sure to accompany Dean everywhere, since he was Muggle-born. We also made it a point that we did not discuss Dean's parentage openly, in the fear that the Heir of Slytherin would catch wind of it and attack him. Admittedly, I regretted not joining them for breakfast more often- my inability to sleep nowadays meant I spent more time cooping myself in the library at mornings rather than following them to breakfast.

Soon, Christmas came, though with an unusually heavy atmosphere. I received an owl from Mom stating that she was heading to Egypt with the Weasleys, a fact that I was astonished at. I knew that she had grown close to them, but I wouldn't have expected it to be _this_ close. It was almost like they were old friends or something, going out to travel together.

As it turned out, I had to say goodbye to both Dean and Seamus, who were going home for the break. I was wandering around the castle, having missed Dean's departure. As I stepped back into the common room, I spotted Seamus, who stepped in front of me and handed me a parcel casually.

"Here," he said, dropping it into my arms.

Staring at the shoddily wrapped parcel, I laughed, before deciding to tease him a little.

"A bit early, don't you think?" I stated, sending him a joking look.

He turned pink, before muttering defensively in response. "It's the only way I won't forget to send it- not to mention me Mam doesn't like me to send the owl out too much."

Smiling, I held out an arm and tentatively stepped forward, engulfing him in a hug. He returned it with the same hesitation, slinging his arm around my back. Pulling away slightly, I beamed up at him, grey eyes meeting his blue ones.

"Thanks," I spoke awkwardly. "Um, I'm going to miss you, you know."

Seamus regarded me for a moment, before a small smile curled upon his lips.

"Yeah," he said. "Me too."

Pulling away from him, I sent him a wave and he took a step back, returning the gesture.

"See you, Greenwood." He said, his expression almost seeming sentimental.

"See you, Finnigan." I smiled and watched his sandy hair disappear from sight behind the portrait door.

Looking down at the package in my arms, the emptiness of the common room seemed overbearing, and it was then that I couldn't help but feel so very alone.

.

* * *

For the billionth time, I buried my head within my arms as I attempted to study in the common room. The Weasleys, along with Harry and Hermione had decided to stay in school for Christmas and unfortunately, they made it a point to play Exploding Snap in the common room almost every day.

And as the name of the game suggested, saying that involved a lot of noise was an understatement.

I must have looked extremely displeased, for the twin Weasleys slid over to my side and made gagging noises at my small pile of work.

Ron stared at me, looking utterly disgusted.

"Rhia, it's _Christmas_ ," he said like it was self-explanatory. I scoffed, before picking up my quill and writing something down on my essay.

"Not like Santa is going to do my homework for me, right?" I muttered under my breath, but judging by the exasperated look on Ron's face, he heard it. I stuck out my tongue in him in retaliation.

"Very mature, Rhia." Fred said from next to me. Next to him, George nodded in agreement, and the both of them sported identical grins.

"Shut up, Forge," I grumbled. "Let me act my bloody age, will you?" They snickered and I caught wind of something that sounded suspiciously like ' _didn't know you were five,'_ and I promptly sent them a glare, pointedly ignoring them in favour of writing down another sentence in my essay.

I joined in Exploding Snap with them about three hours later, after deftly stowing away my completed homework in the dormitories upstairs and plopping down on a seat next to Ginny, whose face positively glowed as Harry sat down next to her. Ron noticed my triumphant look and sent me a scowl.

"Don't even start, Rhia," the redhead warned, and I looked at him, feeling smug and sorely tempted to rub the fact that I had completed all my homework for the holiday already. I instead looked away with a self-satisfied grin, which only seemed to annoy him more.

With a quick glance around the room, it was then did I notice that a certain bushy-haired girl was missing.

"Where's Hermione?" I wondered out loud. Harry and Ron exchanged furtive looks, shrugging in unison.

"Busy," They both responded promptly. When it became clear that they were not going to elaborate, I shrugged, deciding that the knowing look in their eyes was just my imagination.

.

On the day of Christmas eve, I had woken up early once more and hurried off to the Owlery to send my presents. In alignment with the festive spirit, I decided to be as cheesy as possible in not only my presents, but my written well-wishes.

I sent Neville a Remembrall and a generous amount of chocolates from Honeydukes, before scribbling down a note for him.

 _Dear Neville,_

 _Merry Christmas! Hope you'll stay sweet._

 _Love, Rhia._

To Mom I sent her a pretty and intricate pendant studded with blue jewels, knowing that she loved jewellery and that it would look absolutely smashing with her usual work clothes.

 _Dear Mom,_

 _Pen-don't forget to put this on!_

 _Merry Christmas, love you! Help me wish the Weasleys, too! Have a blast in Egypt!_

 _Love, Rhia._

Concerning Oliver, as hesitant as I was to get him a present, I certainly considered him a friend. While I contemplated sending him a broomstick servicing kit, I figured that everyone who knew him would send him that. Instead, I decided to send him a new set of gloves. His cheesy note went something like this:

 _Dear Oliver,_

 _Hope this pair of new gloves will catch you if your old ones fall (apart)._

 _I hope that made sense. Merry Christmas, captain._

 _Love, Rhia._

To Dean I sent him a copy of _Quidditch through the Ages_ , since he hadn't seem to understand the sport yet. His cheesy note went something like this:

 _Dear Dean,_

 _You're a good sport, mate. Have a Merry Christmas._

 _Love, you-know-who._

Moving on, the last parcel I sent out was to Seamus- a heart-shaped box full of Chocolate Cauldrons full of Firewhisky. Obtaining them by mail order from Hogsmeade had been tricky, but I managed to obtain them (with quite a bit of bribi- _persuading_ from my side). I doubted that the alcohol would be an issue, as I remembered Seamus mentioning that he had tried alcohol numerous times due to his Irish background. As always, there I explained the cheesy intension behind his gift in his letter.

 _Dear Finnigan,_

 _Merry Christmas, sweetheart. I bet that you are absolutely flaming as you read this._

 _(I hope that made sense. On a more serious note, hope you're enjoying yourself.)_

 _Love from you-know-who._

In all honesty, it felt weird that Seamus and I were still addressing each other with our last names. On another note, however, the whole you-know-who thing was my sad attempt at an inside joke considering that I always signed off like that when I left them notes to read when they woke up in the morning.

I watched the last owl fly away, before realisation dawned on me that I had no idea when Mom would receive her present, and if she would even receive it on Christmas Eve. Hopefully, there would be some miraculous time difference to save me from my blunder.

As usual, breakfast was amazing as I piled up my plate with pancakes, butter and syrup, my mood feeling more relaxed than usual. I ignored the rude looks sent to me from across the hall by Pansy Parkinson, instead opting to go for seconds and feeling extremely satisfied. As the few Gryffindors gathered near me to eat as well, I remained quiet in favour of eating.

I was distracted by the post arriving and the number of owls seemed to have multiplied to more so than usual. I blinked in surprise as a couple of owls came my way. I untied the packages from the owls and allowed them to peck at pancake crumbs as I received my presents.

That night after the Feast, (which had them sitting a table with Dumbledore leading them in singing Christmas songs) I had my remaining presents sent out-mainly to the twins, Ginny, the Golden Trio and Severus (admittedly, I didn't dare to write him a cheesy note). I sat at the common room and noted the absence of the Golden Trio before I began opening my presents with the Weasleys in the room.

The Weasley twins had opened my present and read my cheesy note, in which I had included what I felt was an utterly brilliant joke. (" _Someone's left side got cut off, he's all right now!_ ") They chortled at how ridiculous I was, and I agreed them wholeheartedly.

Minutes later, they left the room to send out their own presents, and the room grew quiet again with only me and Ginny in it.

Neville had gotten me a broomstick servicing kit, Dean sent me this lovely leather-bound notebook, and from the Golden Trio and the Weasleys I got Zonko products and sweets. Severus even sent me a book about Potions, which and his message plainly screamed that I needed to brush up on my Potions grade. Mom had sent me a book titled Pride and Prejudice which was written by a muggle author, and I was astonished to find a blue and black hand-knit jumper with my initials sewn onto it. I knew that Mom didn't knit, so who could have sent it?

Even Ginny looked more cheerful than usual as she hesitantly looked over and saw the jumper. At my perplexed look, she immediately explained.

"It's from Mom," she said softly. I stared at the intricately woven jumper and immediately slipped it on, feeling immensely touched. It felt a lot more comfy in the common room after that.

"Tell her thanks for me, will you?" I told Ginny, beaming at her. "I really like it."

The young redheaded girl nodded and hastily, we both made our way to the dormitories upstairs before the Weasley twins could return. Tidying up my presents for the day, I opened up my trunk. My eyes caught sight of a familiar brown parcel, shoddily wrapped, though it seemed like the person had taken freat care in ensuring that it did not fall apart. Remembering Seamus handing this to me in the last day of school term, I immediately set about to opening it, taking care to avoid tearing the brown paper. My jaw fell open as I caught sight of a all-too familiar navy blue and gold- in fact the colours that I saw before I headed to bed any night.

Seamus had gotten me a bloody Puddlemere United poster. The printing had been done brilliantly with what had to be done in the best detail ever, and the players soared about in the poster around the boldly emblazoned logo. I stared at his present incredulously, wide-eyed, wondering how in the world that he knew I liked Puddlemere.

As I straightened the poster, a rolled-up piece of parchment fell out. Unfurling it, I saw a familiar scrawl that was without a doubt belonged to the sandy-haired wizard in question.

 _Greenwood,_

 _Don't freak out or anything, but I asked Lavender if she knew what your favourite team is. Hope you like it._

 _Merry Christmas,_

 _Finnigan._

My heart warmed as I hung up the poster immediately. I then compared my own gift to Seamus' with a groan- a box of chocolates with a cheesy joke was simply _not_ going to cut it. Tearing out a piece of parchment, I wondered what I could possibly to make up for the lack of class in my present for him, before I thought up of an idea. Immediately, I set off to write the letter, taking great care in making sure my handwriting was legible.

 _Finnigan,_

 _My present for you sucked. So I'm giving you another one- you get to call in three favours (not counting help with homework or anything, because I already help you with that). Just anything you want me to do for you is fine. Until then, I'm going to owe you because I bloody_ love _your present._

 _Thank you so much._

 _Love, Greenwood._

Heading to the Owlery, I tied the note hastily to a fluffy barn owl, feeling satisfied as I watched the owl go with a smile.

 _'Merry Christmas, Seamus.'_

 _._

* * *

 **Changed up my format for letters and I underlined it so it would not look like a chapter from a song fic. Hopefully it is easier to read now!**

 **(I'm sorry that this is a filler chapter more than anything.)**

 **What did you think of Rhia's presents? I'm curious to know ;)**


	9. Chapter 8

Chapter Eight; Valentine Day Blues

* * *

.

With that whole fiasco with Christmas presents finally at an end, I spent the rest of my holiday either holing up in the library to study or playing Exploding Snap with the Weasleys. I could no longer study in the common room without at least one Weasley bothering me. Even Percy Weasley, the big-headed and pompous prefect told me off about my near-lack of social interaction with anyone else and my lack of Christmas spirit.

"I got everyone presents," I pointed out dryly. "You can't complain about that."

The prefect simply huffed in response, muttering under his breath before he walked out of the common room.

 _Probably off to find his dear Penelope_ , I presumed.

Though needless to say, I was more than glad when the holidays ended, since it would mean that I would be able to see Dean and Seamus again.

It was strange acknowledging that I missed someone who was not Mom, as had been the case in the numerous years in France. I had missed Malfoy back then too, though not nearly as much considering we used to write to each other regularly. I had spent the last day feeling unusually cheery as I kept on glancing at the portrait hole to see if anyone familiar would enter the common room.

However, on a gloomier note, it seemed that over the holidays, Hermione had gotten herself in some sort of mishap. While Harry and Ron had assured me countless of times that she was fine and had not been attacked, contrary to popular opinion, I still felt somewhat uneasy. The hospital wing was getting more and more crowded each day, with people coming by in the hopes of seeing what had happened to Hermione. I had to admit that classes were a bore without her chipping in with her flawless recitations in every class.

"'Sup, Rhia." I jumped slightly as I heard a familiar voice behind me and immediately I whirled around.

Seeing Dean and Seamus again had to be the highlight of our first day back as I couldn't help but smile contagiously the moment I saw them. I still felt incredulous that I had grown so fond of them of all people. The moment I saw them again, I gave them each a hug- and it felt significantly less awkward than the last time I had hugged them.

Seeing them again put me in such a good mood, in fact, that during Herbology, I was cheerfully humming throughout the lesson, earning confused looks from my partner of the day Neville. My cheery countenance was noticeable even with everyone's ear muffs on. Dean and Seamus noticed of course, and teased me relentlessly about it- which did make me falter and flush in embarrassment, though I couldn't help grinning nonetheless.

However, my good mood quickly dissipated as I filed out with the rest of the class and someone bumped into me in the corridor. I didn't care about being bumped into, it was more a matter of _who._ Looking up, I scrunched up my face only to see that it was none other than Pansy Parkinson and Draco Malfoy. I made to move away when I suddenly heard Parkinson's scathing voice cut through the air.

"Pity that that Granger wasn't actually attacked," the pug-faced girl spoke, sticking her nose in the air snootily.

"It's only a matter of time," Malfoy responded coolly, his voice in a careless drawl. "All the Mudbloods in school are going to be exterminated, anyway."

My mind flickered to an image of a smiling Dean, who was Muggle-born and could very well be attacked at any moment. A surge of anger ran through me as I began to think about what might happen to him if the attacks didn't stop.

To wish such a fate on Hermione and to be talking about Muggle-borns like pests- Parkinson and Malfoy were the worst sort of people. They were worst than scum. It was strange to dislike someone you used to care for deeply with such a burning intensity. I couldn't bring myself to hate Malfoy, though, no matter how hard I tried, which was why I instead focused on Parkinson, whom I had no personal attachment to and was thus easier for me to focus my feelings of dislike on.

I scowled at both of their retreating heads, before turning away and stalking off, deciding that they needed to be knocked off their horses.

.

My golden opportunity came a month later, on February the 14th. The Great Hall had been decorated a lurid shade of pink. Fat little gnomes which looked too gnarly to be Cupids of any sort ran about the school, disrupting lessons to deliver Valentines. It was an absolute nightmare- the romantic within me had been admittedly fond of Valentine's (even though I never got anything) until the image I had of the sentimental, sweet holiday had been downright wrecked by the overly-cheesy decorations.

I had gaped at the unrecognisable Great Hall, and in response Neville had lifted a finger and pointed to Lockhart, who was wearing pink robes that matched the disgusting decorations perfectly.

So all this was courtesy to Lockhart once again, of course. After all, the last time Lockhart organised something, it hadn't turned out well at all. It had ended with the said wizard being blasted off his feet by Severus, which I personally thought was absolutely brilliant.

In the bustling crowd within the corridors, I was shoved around and alas separated from Dean and Seamus. It was lucky that I was somewhat used to navigating the school by myself now, given my frequent trips to the library. Squeezing out of the crowd and ducking into an empty classroom, I decided that it would be best to wait out the crowd. After all, midgets like me never faired well in places with too many people.

I froze however as I heard suddenly heard a shuffle of movement behind me. My thoughts immediately began to run wild.

Had I unwittingly walked into a trap? Was the monster of Slytherin behind me right now, ready to attack me, a blood traitor?

My hand inched towards my wand as fear prickled down my spine. I heard a noise once again- though my face turned pink as I realised that it was in actuality the sound of a girl groaning. In my curiosity, I turned around, ignoring the warning bells sounding in my mind.

Taking in the sight behind me, I was shocked still for a few moments, my face immediately flooded with a rush of blood. Promptly bolting out of the classroom, face burning with mortification, it was all I could do from screaming in embarrassment. I didn't look back.

Merlin, the image of Percy Weasley making out with Penelope Clearwater was burned into my mind and _bloody hell I did not need to see that._ I could still see his hands tangled in her hair and she in turn looking like she was trying to suck his face out- though the fact that I had intruded on such an intimate moment was most embarrassing of all.

Stumbling away from that terrible scene, I was still blushing terribly when I noticed Pansy Parkinson walking away from one of those messenger gnomes, looking impossibly smug.

 _She must have delivered a message_ , I thought as I watched her stride away.

The moment she disappeared from sight, I slid out from the corner where I had hidden myself and an idea hit me. I stared at this wonderful opportunity to get back at both Parkinson and Malfoy for her nasty tongue. I set off to work, approaching the gnome immediately.

"Excuse me, Miss Parkinson wants to make an amendment to her Valentine's Day message." I said coolly. The gnome shifted its gaze at me suspiciously, clearly not buying it. My smile didn't falter, however as I gestured for him to come closer, whispering into his ear as I inconspicuously slid him a Sickle.

Stepping away from the gnome, I beamed at it. "And that's the amended message, see, and she doesn't want it to be anonymous, too." I hummed thoughtfully, sliding the gnome another handful of Sickles and Knuts before adding as an afterthought. "I wasn't here, okay?"

The gnome exchanged looks with me and saluted. I saluted back, grinning.

I was almost proud of myself for coming up with that lovely idea. This was going to unfold brilliantly.

Watching as it walked off in search of his new victim, I slid off into another corridor. It seemed that Harry and Malfoy had yet again gotten into another scuffle- though I couldn't make out what exactly they were fighting over. I blanched as I caught sight of Percy Weasley telling the both of them off, remembering the scene from about five minutes ago.

"Looks like Potter didn't like your Valentine much!" Malfoy suddenly spat towards the direction of Ginny, who stood there covering her face, before running past him to get to her classroom.

I watched Ginny's retreating back, my protective instincts over the girl being arisen. She must have sent a message to someone- probably Harry- only to have it heard by Malfoy (aka an insensitive git). I wanted to tell him off for picking on Ginny- really? Sweet, quiet Ginny who was only a first-year, for goodness' sake! Why did he feel the need to involve her in his feud?

Suddenly, a familiar gnarly voice rang out, and I turned around.

(Of course, the voice was familiar, considering I made friends with him about a few minutes ago.)

"I have a musical message for Mr Draco Malfoy from a certain Miss Pansy Parkinson." Mr Gnome stated, before catching sight of Draco and positively pouncing upon him, fluffy angel wings and all.

Making himself comfortable hanging onto his back, Malfoy looked absolutely disgusted at the potato-like gnome clinging onto him. Without warning, though. the gnome began to sing loudly and obnoxiously:

.

 _'His cheekbones are sharper than my wits,_

 _He can't see past the height of his nose._

 _Oh Merlin, the Prince of Slytherin is so beautiful,_

 _Give me forty children, I dearly hope he will~ '_

 _._

After the rather unpleasant recital, Draco finally managed to throw Mr Gnome off, sputtering, his pale face turning a _very_ angry red from humiliation.

"I need to have a word with Parkinson," He muttered darkly, before he stormed off without a further word.

Watching him go, there was a surprising lack of guilt as I congratulated myself on the success of my plans. I walked past Mr Gnome with a cheerful smile, and minutes later he walked away, the heavy sound of gold clunking in his pocket.

I turned the corner to see the Weasley twins, smile widening at the wide grins on their faces.

"Brilliant," Fred began, grinning from ear to ear.

"You _didn't_ ," George added in disbelief and I shrugged, returning the grin easily.

"The two gits needed help acknowledging their feelings for each other, after all." I stated innocently, knowing that the Weasley twins of all people wouldn't sell me out on a good prank. My eyes met theirs as we shared knowing glances, before breaking in identical, crooked grins.

Oh, the joys of being a total scumbag.

.

* * *

 **In which a confession of love is made, and Rhia bribes Cupids to pull off her first prank.**


	10. Chapter 9

Chapter Nine; Lying is the Most Fun

* * *

.

Fred and George were still singing Harry's Valentine song in the common room, much to the said black-haired boy's annoyance.

I had dragged Seamus and Dean to the common room with the insistence that exams would start soon, though I found that it was irritatingly distracting to be studying with them. Especially since they had begun joining in on teasing Harry in the singing of his memorable Valentine's Day song.

It was in that moment where Ginny surfaced from the girl's dormitories. The moment she caught wind of the song, her face seemed to catch on fire as she made to turn away and leave.

Noticing how uncomfortable she was, I promptly plugged my ears up and obnoxiously broke out into what I fondly dubbed 'Parkinson's Love Song." I didn't take much care when I was singing though, I simply belted out the lyrics that I had made up for Parkinson's Valentine message as loudly as possible. My voice even broke a few times as I approached the end, screeching shrilly in an imitation of Pansy Parkinson. (' _Give me forty children, I hope he willllllllllllllll!')_

There was silence when I ended and I sent them all unimpressed stares at the lack of response whatsoever.

"What? Don't you forget about the greatest love song ever," I drawled, sending them droll looks.

Seamus snidely coughed in response, breaking the silence.

"Guess now we know why Flitwick didn't choose you for the choir," he remarked and I immediately rolled my eyes, elbowing him in retaliation, though honestly not feeling the least bit offended. He sniggered and leaned out of the way.

Fred and George roared with laughter and Ginny bolted out of the common room. I realised that I may have come across as if I was mocking her song as well, and at that revelation of my mistake I excused myself and slid out after her. The redhead was holding a pile of books and I assumed that she was heading to the library.

"You are really brave to have sent that to Harry, you know," I told her once I caught up with her. "No need to feel embarrassed."

She nodded, still looking flustered and I frowned thoughtfully, before adding.

"In any case, your Valentine gift was much better than Pansy Parkinson's- remember that." I said with what I hoped was a meaningful tone, making a face as I mentioned the pug-faced Slytherin. I then awkwardly patted her back before stepping away.

In all honesty, Pansy Parkinson's message had actually been somewhat decent in my opinion, beginning with something along the lines of ' _his hair is paler than the night moonlight, his eyes darker than a storm.'_

It had been so impressive, in fact, that thinking back on my recent prank, I felt somewhat bad for messing up her confession and making her seem like an obsessed admirer- though if Malfoy reciprocated her feelings for him, he wouldn't let whatever relationship they had be broken up over a petty thing like this in my opinion. It was surprising to see that someone like her was somewhat poetic, though it was possible she had just asked someone like Blaise Zabini or Daphne Greengrass to help her.

Waving goodbye at Ginny, I was overcome with an surge of restless feelings as I stared at the books in her hand. Normally I worked off my restless feelings on homework, but considering there was no way I could work at the common room productively at the moment, I decided that it would be better to wander around for a bit before returning.

I then wondered if I should perhaps visit Severus- it had been a while since we last talked and I was curious to hear his opinion on the current happenings in Hogwarts. And thus, before I knew it, I was already descending down the staircase to the dungeons and the only thing I could hear were my own footsteps thudding down the dim stairwell.

This time however, I was not so lucky as to step into the dungeons with it being mercifully empty , for just as I turned the corner, I was met with an all-too familiar features- pale, slicked-back blonde hair, and pale grey eyes.

Draco Malfoy.

For some reason, his goons, Crabbe and Goyle were nowhere in sight, which led me to believe that Draco had been impatient and left the common room without them. Our eyes met and the silence grew thick with unsaid tension.

Turning away, I ignored him and deftly made to move towards Severus' office when he broke the silence, sneering.

"I know what you did, Greenwood." He said and I froze in my tracks, unsure of how to react. Merlin, this was not supposed to happen. Malfoy was supposed to have kicked me out of his life already, why could he not just stick with it and leave me alone?

More importantly, how had he found out? How did he figure out that it was me?

I quickly composed myself, instead coolly meeting his gaze- those pale grey eyes were so much more different than my own. My eyes were grey too, though I always thought of my eyes being more harsher, more intense. With the way Malfoy was staring at me accusingly at the moment, it was definitely not something I was used to. As a result, there was no denying that I was afraid.

Taking in a deep breath, I steeled myself. Two could play at this game- he wasn't the only person who could play mind games.

I liked to that I was better than him in that sense, which may or may not be true. I may not be the most intelligent of kids, but I was at least somewhat sensitive to the emotions of others. It was not as if I had not expected him to figure out it was me, one way or another, and with that thought in mind I decided to feign ignorance.

Running away from the consequences was easy, after all.

"And what exactly are you accusing me of?" Icily, I spoke, and I marveled at the lack of hesitation in my voice.

Malfoy's eyes narrowed.

"You know very well- that Valentine Day message." He spat out bitterly. At that, I almost laughed- to others, pranks may have seemed harmless, but to the heir to the Malfoy family, getting pranked had positively _humiliated_ him. As someone with a considerable amount of pride, I could now understand why he was so angry.

Having my suspicions confirmed, I moved to cross my arms. Body language was a huge component of communication, after all. It was just a thought I entertained, but if he saw that I was not affected by what he had to say, he would hopefully take it that I did not know anything.

"What is it that I 'know very well'?" I emphasised my point by gesturing with my fingers, before speaking once more, taking great pains to sound polite and neutral. "What have I done, exactly?"

"You changed her message to degrade me," he accused directly, talking as though what he spoke of was the truth.

I let my lips curl up in a smile. He had obviously interpreted my prank to be something personal against him- technically it was, but I had intended it just for laughs rather than some sort of vengeance on him and Parkinson. Or rather, that was what I had told myself afterwards.

"Is this what this is about?" I said. "Why would I want to degrade you, anyway? I have nothing to gain from it. What, did you see me talking to a gnome and assume that I did it?"

I took his silence for a confirmation, and let a scowl cross my face. I let my expression cloud with annoyance as I tilted my body away from his somewhat. Cold. Hurt. Disinterested. The more he read the feelings I let him see, the more convincing this would become.

Perhaps I should have been worried about how easily the lies spilled out of my mouth.

"For your information, I was asking the gnome to deliver a message for me, too. You have no right- no right _at all_ to accuse me of something that I didn't do." I insisted, even though the words I spouted were a complete lie.

The only thing I could think of was how to stop him from finding out the truth. I was acutely aware of my actions and his reactions. From this point onward, I just needed to be careful with my words, my expressions- everything.

In any case, having his suspicions confirmed that the perpetrator of that prank was really me was not at all appealing. That was in itself enough incentive for me to keep up the act.

"Who did you send a Valentine to, then?" He challenged, and in response I let a frown cross my face.

It was a childish declaration, though I hadn't expected anything less from Malfoy. Through growing up and exchanging letters with him all these years, I had grown to admire his individuality, his ambition as a person. From my encounters with him this year, however, I could see that he was as foolish as any other kids our age- or at least as foolish as his ego made him behave.

If Malfoy expected someone to just plainly admit their hypothetical crush, he was really like an idiot. In a few years, he might have been the one playing me on the palm of his hands, and my response to that question would have led to my downfall. Now, his tone simply suggested that I absolutely had to listen to him since he was apparently superior to me.

"Who I fancy is regrettably none of your business- though I guess you and Parkinson are all chummy now, then?" I responded, eyes watching him for his reaction.

A sick satisfaction unfurled within me as his pale face reddened in fury.

"That's hardly any of your business," he spat. "And I see that you are avoiding the question."

For a moment there, I was overcome with a childish inclination to sock him in the face.

"I am not obliged to tell you, Malfoy." I said, fighting to keep my face as emotionless as possible. A sneer grew on his pointed features, and I felt my stomach twist in spite of myself.

"I'll just assume that you were lying then, and that there is no such person you sent a message too." He stated.

Anxiety was beginning to gnaw away at me now, but I ignored it, instead opting to brainstorm my options. Which was more worth it? Having Slytherin's most annoying pain in the arses, Malfoy and Parkinson, have a permanent grudge against me for a mere prank or have them spread rumours about someone I fancied? Or worse, walk away and have something I could not predict happen?

It was a clear option, considering I didn't relish the idea of knowing what Malfoy and Parkinson could do with a proper reason to be malicious.

"Since you are obviously so insistent on invading my privacy, I'll just tell you." I said, taking in a shaky breath, hoping that it seemed like I was summoning my resolve.

I closed my eyes and muttered quickly under my breath.

" _Dean Thomas,_ " I said, before turning away with my face glowing magnificently. "I sent him that message- happy now? Know that I did not do anything and leave me alone already. I swear, if you tell anyone- "

The look on Malfoy's face made it seem like he had just gotten quite a bit of juicy information. For the sake of keeping up the act, I narrowed my eyes at him, taking a step forward.

"Don't you dare breathe even a _word_ , Malfoy." I warned, eyes fixing on his coldly. After all, this was the only thing I was supposed to get defensive over wasn't it? I fancied Dean, now, and Draco Malfoy was the one entrusted with this piece of false knowledge that could make my life hell.

He didn't seem the least bit intimidated. Instead, his lips seemed to curl up in triumph and I crossed my arms, sending him a dark glower. I was shocked to find real anger in my voice as I spoke, eyes incredulously betraying my feelings of hurt, for all they were worth.

"I swear, Malfoy, it has been more than a bloody year since you talked to me and when you finally do, it's to _blackmail_ me, of all things?" My throat was incredibly dry, but I forced myself to maintain eye contact with him. My eyes glistened as I spoke again, my voice surprisingly shaking from a sort of unknown emotion.

"Honestly, I can't believe you."

At that, I sent him one last glance before I turned on my heel and began to walk back to the Gryffindor common room, abandoning my desire to talk with Severus in favour of filling Dean and Seamus in about what happened. I did not even bother waiting for any sort of explanation or reply as I walked away calmly- because storming away would certainly be an overkill in this situation.

Taking in a shaky breath, I feebly directed my thoughts to a more pressing matter.

It seemed that my cover hadn't been blown yet, though I had not expected the repercussions of my actions to strike me so quickly. Undoubtedly, someone had seen me talking to the gnome, but luckily enough, the person who had mouthed off to Malfoy had no idea what I had been talking about.

Somewhere along the way, I broke into a sprint as the suppressed anxiety bit at me. The first time I decide to prank someone and it turned into this hellhole of pure drama. It was like I had managed to avoid getting eaten by a monster, but instead I had fallen in a ditch and broken my bloody legs. With that said, being able to lie so easily was not something to be proud of, either- though I felt considerably less guilty about doing it, and as a result felt guilty about that. Did that make sense? Probably not.

My eyes roamed the dark hallway that was created from dusty stone. For a moment, I imagined that it was a hallway in Beauxbatons, made out of shiny marble polished right down to its core. Would I still be in this sort of situation if I had remained in France?

 _Probably not. Wouldn't your life have remained the same, like how it has always been there? Boring, pointless, unchanging?_

There was silence as I climbed up the stairs and recognised a familiar landing decorated with the portrait of the Fat Lady. Hurriedly whispering the password, I ducked into the common room, relieved to find that Dean and Seamus were still there. At my flustered look, Seamus sent me a questioning expression which I quickly addressed.

"See, I had a run in with Malfoy- " I panted, sitting down next to them and gesturing at them to huddle closer even though the common room was now empty. It must have been my paranoia as I began to hurriedly pour out the details about the encounter and his accusations. The longer I spoke, the more I seemed to ramble on and on, heart pounding at an uncomfortable speed.

"And- and, I told him that I told the gnome to deliver a message to Dean," I looked up, meeting the said dark-haired boy's eyes. "But I also warned him not to tell anyone, so I don't know if he's going to- "

Dean raised an arm.

"Rhia, slow down and _breathe_ ," he emphasised. He patted my arm. I did as he said but still found myself feeling fidgety, though just a tad bit calmer. Deam always did have that sort of effect on people.

At their expressions, I let out a sigh and bowed my head. "Sorry for dragging you into this, Dean. I've already confessed to you once- technically, that is- so I thought it would be the most believable."

There was silence, which Dean broke after a while.

"Don't worry about it," he assured. "If he interrogates me, I'll make something up."

"Say that you rejected me," I suggested before letting out a tired sigh. "I'm pretty thick-skinned as it is, maybe he'll buy it."

Seamus, who had been uncharacteristically quiet, chose this moment to chime in.

"Think he's going to blab about this to the others about this?" His tone sounded thoughtful and in response I let out a grown.

"Unfortunately, yes." I said with almost complete certainty, laughing bitterly. "Sorry if this makes your lives hell in the next few weeks."

"It's fine," Dean interjected firmly. "He would have made our lives hell anyway, if he knew the truth."

"We don't blame you." Seamus added, sending a small smile in my direction. "Cheer up, Greenwood."

I must've looked stupid just gaping at them, but a new, foreign feeling was settling within me. What had I been so afraid of, exactly? That Malfoy would get back at me? That Dean and Seamus would get mad at me for dragging them into this mess? By now, I should have had more faith in them. All the attacks going on had put everyone at least on edge, but for the lack of better words, I was touched that they remained so supportive. A rush of affection filled me that I wasn't used to feeling around others.

Merlin, why were they such good friends?

I groaned softly at the cheesy, warm feelings that engulfed me but I just couldn't stop smiling.

"Thank you." I said genuinely. "I don't bloody deserve you guys."

Seamus muttered something in response to that, but ducked his head quickly. I hugged them quickly before we sat together in the common room and begin to do our homework, though there was this silence that settled over us as we worked, as if we were expecting the rumours that would surely come.

But unexpectedly, there was nothing. I had no idea at all what Malfoy was playing at, but when the three of us stepped out of the common room the next day, things couldn't have been more normal.

As we walked through the corridors, there were no turning heads, no glares, barely any gossiping, even. Just a plain old school day at Hogwarts. The Slytherins jeered at us as usual when we walked past, but there was no ridiculing directed at me or Dean in particular. I frowned.

What did this mean? Was Malfoy up to something, or did he simply not tell anyone about what happened? Maybe I should be feeling relieved, but this was as confusing as hell.

I stared at the back of Malfoy's pale blonde head, having no idea what was going on in that mind of his. Yesterday, I had been so sure that I had just dug my own grave in one way or another, but today Malfoy seemed to be acting like everything was perfectly normal. I wasn't feeling nervous at any sort of feelings of unease, but rather the lack thereof.

 _Well, that fact that you always were good at playing dumb probably helped._ A voice drawled sardonically, resonating unpleasantly in my mind. I told it to shut up.

It didn't, however, and the rest of my night was riddled with sleepless thoughts that buzzed in my mind no matter how many times I tried to lull myself to sleep. I couldn't stop remembering Beauxbatons as the sound of lone footsteps echoeing in my head and neither could I forget that ugly sneer that twisted upon Malfoy's features, taunting me and the words that spilled from my mouth.

 _Liar, liar, pants on fire ~_

.

* * *

 **In which Rhia's prank was nearly exposed... but surprisingly, nothing happens.**


	11. Chapter 10

Chapter Ten; The Calm Before a Storm

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"Stop looking at me like that," I complained, glancing at where Seamus was childishly pulling faces at me.

Seriously, all I had done was briefly mention my growing affection for Mandrakes. With the sour look Seamus sent me, you would think I had just said something along the lines of ' _I want to be best mates with all the Slytherins! The greener the better!'_

Nonetheless, I was glad when I was paired up with Neville, who seemed just as taken by the little muddy child-like plants, if not more.

After a day filled with more Herbology, in which my partner happily remarked that the Mandrakes were growing well- which I took as a sign that they would be able to be sliced up and stewed for the Petrified victims soon. It was embarrassing to admit that I was actually somewhat attached to the mud-coloured human-like plants, but the thought that the victims would wake up soon cheered me up significantly, especially since the absence of those Petrified seemed to grow more pronounced with each passing day. I already missed dear Colin walking around with that strange camera of his, along with Nearless Headless Nick surfacing quite literally through our breakfast.

After walking out from Herbology, I accidentally bumped into someone familiar, my face almost burning in embarrassment as I apologised profusely, leaning over to pick up the books that was knocked from her arms. Understandably, I froze when I realised who it was.

Everyone knew that the upper year students on the Quidditch team (plus Harry) were practically Gods and Goddesses in my mind. I normally got through practice fine in my no-nonsense business mode, but outside Quidditch, seeing them was extremely flustering. More often than not, I ended up embarrassing myself in front of those great people I dubbed my seniors.

It just so happened that Alicia Spinnet, fourth-year beauty and Quidditch extraordinaire was the very person I had bumped into.

"Don't worry about it," she said, laughing at my obvious embarrassment before ruffling my hair lightly. I felt horrified that I began to blush at the contact, and tried to pass it off as the result of the warm weather. Beaming, the Chaser scrutinised me for a moment or so, before she leaned back, stating. "Good to see that you're adapting well, Rhia."

I looked at her, expression caught in between a grimace and a smile, prompting her to laugh harder at my supreme awkwardness. Her laughter was loud, but it was surprisingly contagious nonetheless. I stared at the mirth glimmering in her eyes as the light caught her eyes in just a moment and my eyes widened somewhat. I then turned away, screaming internally at myself.

"Alicia Spinnet, get your arse here right now!" Someone suddenly called out in mock impatience from the other end of the corridor, and I made out Angelina Johnson standing with the group of fourth-years that was her circle of friends. Alicia stepped back, rolling her eyes in good humour as she whirled around to face them.

"Just gimme a second!" She called back equally loudly, before she turned back to me, a shine to her brown eyes. "See you around, Rhia."

"See you." I managed weakly before waving at her. Alicia beamed before heading to join her group of friends, joining in their rambunctious laughter.

Determinedly, I walked away in order to prevent myself from staring at her any further and also to stifle my silent screaming.

 _She talked to meeeeeee-_

"What's gotten you so happy?" Ron grumbled as I caught up with the rest of the second-years moments later, cheeks flushed and grinning widely. My face reddened as I turned away after shrugging, hurrying off to find Dean and Seamus. I blamed my cheeriness on the weather.

They were terribly easy to locate, what with Dean beginning to tower over the sea of other by just a bit, with the beginning of his growth spurt, then there was Seamus with his sandy hair and blatant disregard for appearances- his uniform was stubbornly tucked out and he never wore his tie properly. I would have nagged him to at least neaten his appearance somewhat had it been any other day.

I shrugged off the 'where-did-you-go' glances, not wishing to disclose my run-in with Alicia. It wasn't anything against them, it was just something I found embarrassing to discuss, not counting the fact that I was already confused enough as it is.

My eyes habitually glanced down to the stack of things in my arms. Planner, check. Spare parchment, check. Books- all five of them, check. Notes, check. Subject option form, check. A sort of grimace flickered on my expression as my eyes scanned over the paper.

The time to choose subjects for next year had come, something which I regarded with utmost seriousness. Choose the right subjects, and school life would quite possibly be more enjoyable and less painful. Choose the wrong subjects, however, and I would be stuck with them for the next five years or so.

Oh, the horror.

Though I suppose that to consider what subjects I need and did not need, I would have to consider what job I could see myself doing in the future. Something that appealed to me greatly (though even the word 'greatly' was a huge understatement) would be an Auror.

Mom had told me once that Dad was an Auror posted overseas. He worked a dangerous job, which was why he had never come to visit me. Maybe he had been around when I was a kid, but I could not remember. On the other hand, Mom worked what I assumed was a seemingly boring job at the Ministry, which I guess that if you cared for technicalities, becoming an Auror meant serving the Ministry in a sense.

My reason for wanting to be an Auror was childish but quickly grew into a small obsession. It all started when I was about seven years old. Innocently, I had asked Mom if I would ever get to meet Dad.

Vaguely, my mother had replied me, off-handedly stating that 'you might, if you become an Auror like him'. The then seven-year-old me had clung onto that possibility like it was my lifeline. I viewed it as my ticket to meeting Dad and possibly working beside him. Looking at the subject options now, I was once more reminded of my childhood ambition before realising I had never really abandoned it.

After all, I never could muster any motivation if I didn't have a goal in mind. There was no harm in dreaming, right?

"Diligrout," I said to the portrait ahead of me before hurrying into the portrait hole and setting down my things, before slumping into a seat, before filling out the subject option form with a sort of intensity.

 _Become an Auror and locate Dad it is, then,_ I decided, signing off my name as I finished.

In the midst of my thoughts, I glanced over at Dean and Seamus, with the former currently slumped over the side of a sofa and with the latter looking constipated at their subject options. I stared at them as I looked at my own filled up form- along with the subjects I already took, I had decided on Divination, Muggle Studies, Care of Magical Creatures and Study of Ancient Runes. After all, I could always just drop one of the subjects if it was too much for me to handle.

Certain people like Neville had gotten tons of letters from his relatives giving him advice on what to choose, leaving the poor lad overwhelmed, while others like Harry and Ron had taken the same subjects as each other. In an amazing display of eagerness, Hermione immediately signed up for everything, and I couldn't help but wonder if she knew what she was signing up for. No matter how brilliant the girl was, even she had to have some difficulty balancing all that work.

I wondered briefly if I should send an S.O.S to Mom and ask her for last-minute advice since I got letters from her regularly- though I doubted that she would know much about the requirements for any Ministry job other than her own. Pulling my quill away, I flipped open my planner and decidedly crossed the filling of the option form off of my list of things to do.

With that done, I slumped back in my seat, allowing my eyes to roam the common room. I scooted over towards Dean, who seemed much more confused over the various prospects- which was understandable, considering he was Muggle-born. I ended up lecturing him somewhat over the various options each subject offered but as it turned out, it was like my words had simply floated out of his mind as he simply stared at the list, his eyes glazing over.

He ended up jabbing his wand at the list, averting his eyes as he did so. Opening his eyes after every jab, he frowned at each subject his wand landed on and I gaped at him, feeling torn in between whether to laugh or cry. After a while, I gave up on lecturing him and watched as he began to sketch on a tiny torn piece of parchment, scratching away with his quill and frowning focusedly. He had been drawing for as long as I remember- though admittedly, I hadn't really noticed until recently.

Seamus had also taken to such extreme measures- he had also picked up his wand to poke at the list of subjects. But the moment he jabbed at the parchment, sparks had begun to sputter out the end of his wand. He took no notice and continued jabbing the list, even as smoke began curling off both the paper and his wand dangerously.

"... Stop that." I said, eyes not leaving the smoking parchment, leaning over to grab his paper away.

It just so happened that the end of his wand just chose that moment to _explode._

The parchment fluttered down to the small mahogany table as Seamus released it in his bewildered state. His hair and eyebrows were singed and there was a scorch mark plainly on the middle of the list. Stunned, he looked around the room wildly, before hurrying to wave away the smoke curling up from his wand.

However, from the smell of smoke and Dean's laughter, I could tell that those were not to only things burning. Flushing, I walked over to the nearest mirror and broke down in laughter as soon as I saw my reflection.

"I- bloody- _love_ what you did with my eyebrows, Finnigan." I managed to choke out in between gasps, hugging my stomach as I was reduced to giggles from the ridiculous sight that was _me_.

My eyebrows were singed and the explosion even left dark blotches on my face. Some of the stray hairs I didn't manage to tie back was even sticking upwards, burned and charred in a fashion similar to Seamus' current hair.

Seamus grinned back at me, blue eyes shining with mirth as he didn't look one bit sheepish about what he did to my already unattractive face. He lifted an eyebrow and sent me an unabashed wink.

"Looks like an improvement to me," he stated cheekily and I huffed at that, lunging over the arm of the sofa to get to him.

"Git," I growled back in response, though my attempt to look threatening failed when my hair was on fire and the corners of my traitorous lips were curling upwards. "Wait till I get I get my bloody hands on you!"

Dean looked up from his sketching, watching us bemusedly as he waved his wand, quickly cleaning us up with a simple _'Tergeo!'_ It barely came as a surprise to me when he did it perfectly- when your best mate blew things up on a regular basis, the cleaning up spell was simply a must to know.

"I can't believe you still call Seamus here by his last name," he directed at me suddenly, with one of his eyebrows raised. I halted in my attempts to murder the sandy-haired git and stared at him.

Inwardly agreeing with his statement, I did silently ponder why Seamus and I were referring to each other with our last names. Maybe because we were used to it, or we just couldn't bother to change the way we refer to each other. I did not voice out my thoughts, however, instead looking over at Dean with a grim expression.

"Don't you know, Dean?" I started softly. "Finnigan and I... "

I faltered and fell silent, instead looking over at Seamus seriously, before taking in a deep breath and continuing in the most sternest voice I could muster, theatrically allowing my gaze to drop to my palms.

"... have a _last_ -ing connection, see." I finished in a deadpan voice, fully aware that my joke was not funny. Dean immediately began to gag and Seamus promptly let out an unceremonious snort.

"Spare us," Dean groaned, slamming his forehead against the table.

"You are ridiculous." The said brown-haired boy complained under his breath, his voice sounding echoey and muffled by the table.

I sent him a two-fingered salute in reply, grinning toothily in an imitation of Seamus' earlier expression.

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Author's Note:

If you are reading this, I really appreciate that you're sticking around this long! This chapter marks chapter 10 and the first installment of this story is coming to a close soon!

I would like to thank everyone who has reviewed, favorited or followed this story because it really helps me. I went back and did some reformatting and I hope it's somewhat easier to read now.

I'm really sorry if this is awkward to read because I'm trying to work with this new style of writing. Feedback is extremely appreciated so thank you for your support!


	12. Chapter 11

**[trigger warnings for disturbing imagery]**

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Chapter Eleven; Sleep Tight

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"Whatchulookinat?"

My peaceful chewing of my breakfast was broken as the garbled voice of Ron Weasley rang out from next to me, his cheeks stuffed to the brim with food.

Guiltily, I tore my gaze away from the Slytherin table. "Nothing. Why?"

Ron narrowed his eyes somewhat but half-shrugged in response, turning his attention back to his platter of food at hand. Down the table sat Ginny, looking more downcast than usual. Opposite me sat Dean and Seamus, with Dean being more engrossed in doodling on his parchment than actually eating breakfast. Seamus was eating almost as heartily as Ron had, though the short exchange had not gone unnoticed by him.

"Looking for some Slytherin spawn?" He said, catching my eye meaningfully. His eyes darted to a spot in the Slytherin's table and following his gaze, I nodded in reply. I then deftly turned my eyes onto the Slytherin table, or more specifically, onto the pale-blond haired boy seated near the end of the table with his goons, Crabbe and Goyle. They were nearly as hard to miss as the Golden Trio, which I found amusing considering the worlds of difference between the two groups. Suddenly, they got up to leave, and I saw my opportunity come.

"I'll meet you at the common room after I go for practice. I need to catch myself some Slytherins, see." I muttered to Seamus who frowned at the prospect of me going off to make friendly conversation with Slytherins alone. He didn't say anything, however.

Downing the last of my honey-drowned pancakes into my mouth, I hurried out of the Great Hall and after the trio, who were still in sight. As I turned the corner, however, I let out a sigh in frustration as it seemed like they had magically disappeared into thin air.

It had to have been the fourth time so far that I had tried to locate Malfoy, but it seemed that ever since our last confrontation down in the dungeons, he had been dead set on avoiding. I honestly was confused by the way he was acting- like I was trouble and he was determined to keep away from it.

Slumping in defeat, I headed upstairs to fetch my broom and gloves, before heading off to practice.

With the final match looming closer than ever, Quidditch practices were becoming more relentless than usual, as Oliver seemed more set on getting the Cup than ever. He was in full-blown business-slash-Quidditch mode each practice and more often than not, practice ended with everyone sore and aching all over from muscle strains or from being hit by Bludgers.

I didn't mind that much, though. Quidditch was the one thing that I couldn't ever bring myself dislike no matter what- I might even exaggerate and say that I feel more comfortable on a broom than on the ground. Not to mention, Quidditch here was brilliant compared to at Beauxbatons- they didn't take the sport as seriously there, for it was viewed as a more _'_ rowdy' sport, per say. If I didn't know better, I would say that attending Oliver's serious Quidditch sessions were like heaven compared to the old practices in France.

Lo and behold, two days before the big match, the Quidditch captain approached me himself.

I had just been in the common room simultaneously joking around with Deamus and guiltily sneaking glances at Alicia Spinnet (who was seated opposite the common room and laughing with her own friends, which consisted of Angelina and some other girl who I didn't recognise) when the familiar burly sixth-year stepped into the common room, eyes darting towards me almost immediately.

When Oliver Wood showed up, it had been a remarkably pleasant surprise as I followed him out of the common room. I had always been rather fond of him (which was perhaps an understatement,) not to mention I was in a fairly good mood that day. Considering that I was functioning without sleep, I considered it an impressive feat.

"Say, Rhia," He began. "It's two days before the match, and all our players seem to be fine. Sorry to say, but you won't be playing for us this time, love."

I nodded at that. I was just a reserve player after all, if everyone on the team was doing well (thankfully), there was no need for me to play. Oliver continued, however, his voice taking on a matter-of-fact tone that made me feel like he was giving a speech.

"There's another thing- I noticed that your performance in our practices as of late have deteriorated somewhat, so as our only reserve player I would like you to at least get your act together, in case you do end up having to play."

My eyes widened. "Wait, how exactly-" I managed before Oliver cut across me.

"What I'm getting at, is that you don't need to come for the last practice tomorrow. If there are any adjustments to the formations, I'll tell you- but tomorrow I want to have a practice with just my team. Understand what I'm saying?"

I felt strangely uncomfortable at that. Coupled with his earlier remark on my performance, there was just the slightest implication that when I was around, they weren't able to have a good practice- it was like I was dragging down the whole team, or something.

I forced a smile. "Got it, captain. Have a good game on Saturday."

Oliver lightly patted my shoulder. Most of the time, the warm gesture comforted me, but this time I just felt like he was taking pity on me.

"Glad you understand, Rhia," he said, beaming, but it felt distant, like telling me this piece of news was now something he could cross off his to-do list. It was probably just me overreacting. "See you on Saturday."

With a final smile, Oliver left, and I felt strangely empty as I watched him go. It was then did his words sink into my mind- I had let him down with my level of flying, which implied that I had been dragging down everyone else when we practiced. Hence why he didn't want me to come tomorrow. If I had gotten that impression from his words, it was most certainly what he felt- Oliver was not the type to sugarcoat or be less anything less than honest.

My eyes closed by their own accord for just a minute before I halfheartedly scolded myself for being so sensitive about this. Oliver said so himself, didn't he? He wanted a serious practice with his team, I just wasn't a part of it.

 _Shuddap_ , I grumbled.

Shaking away my thoughts, I brought my hands up to my face and slapped it lightly. I was not going to mope about this. I was going to reflect on this, think about how I could improve and handle this situation maturely like how I was expected to be. I was most certainly not going to let this piece of news affect me negatively or be bitter in any way.

The heavy feelings didn't go away, however, which honestly bothered me. I acknowledged the fact that I was prideful, but was I really such a stuck-up person that I couldn't accept the fact that I hadn't been playing like how I should be?

 _No wonder Oliver doesn't want me to attend practice,_ I thought glumly.

I sat in the common room chatting with Dean and Seamus, though I felt more distracted than usual. I ended up absentmindedly watching Dean sketch on the corner of his books in remarkable silence. The moment they got up to head for their dormitories upstairs, I found myself forgetting what we had even talked about.

Looking up, I noticed that Seamus had stayed behind, lingering by the stairwell.

"Everything alright, Greenwood?" He asked, eyes staring into mine as he played it off as a casual question, and I felt myself smiling in response.

"Of course, Finnigan," I responded, waving him off as I sent him what I hoped was a reassuring look. "Good night."

Reluctantly, Seamus slid back upstairs, though not without sending another glance towards me. The moment he was safely out of sight, I slumped forward slightly, bumping my head against the table before groaning.

"I really need to stop that." I muttered to nobody in particular.

Not knowing how to deal with my emotions, I did what I did best- launch myself into work the entire night. Even without sleep, I somehow managed to sit through the following Friday with a sort of eerie clarity of mind. I had expected myself to be more tired, but my eyes stung more than usual and the dark circles under my eyes were more pronounced.

I probably looked like some sort of tiny, angry Panda, though taking my mind off Quidditch that night was oddly relaxing.

That afternoon, I lugged a whole stack of books up to the library for me to study. I didn't even blush and stutter like usual when I caught sight of the group of Quidditch seniors- Wood included- hanging out in the library. I simply did what I did best, walking past them calmly and managing to head over to my favorite spot unnoticed. I always had a lack of presence, in any case- it was easy for me to go unnoticed with my average looks and general quiet demeanour.

I reached the place and set down my books with a soft sigh. The place I chose was well-hidden from sight, surrounded by various bookshelves and it was somewhat dimly-lit in comparison with the rest of the library. Barely was there ever anyone wandered into this part of the library- it was easy to look towards this part of the library and assume there was just a maze of bookshelves.

It was then did I realise that I had neglected to tell Dean and Seamus where I had headed- but then shrugged it off. They would be fine without me, in any case. I would just find them later- though I didn't particularly feel like talking to anyone at all. I would be back before tomorrow morning, at any case, and we had already agreed to meet up at the Quidditch pitch for the match together. Now that I thought about it, they were probably already used to my periodic disappearances by now.

 _It's nothing to feel guilty over,_ I told myself off. _Or if you're that bothered, just make sure you meet them on time tomorrow for the match._

After about a few hours, the library had become even more silent than usual, meaning that the seniors had probably already left for practice. It felt strange, not being at practice even though I knew there was one today. _It's probably even going on right now_ , I thought as my eyes fluttered towards the window, staring blankly at a passing (and extremely fluffy) cloud.

Shaking my head, I pulled out some parchment and instead began to determinedly revise for Potions. Little by little, my grade was improving, though it still wasn't good enough in my opinion. I still had difficulty remembering all the different properties and my practicals were average at best, considering I did fairly terribly from the pressure of brewing a potion on the spot.

After a while, I gave up on Potions all together (something Severus wouldn't be pleased to hear), growling at my resultant headache, instead switching to book titled _Ancient Runes Made Easy_. I poured over the strange symbols and meanings with remarkable interest, though my mind couldn't help but wander off in the end.

 _'The Runespoor, a three-headed creature, represents the number 3'_ would shift to thoughts like _'Oliver didn't mention anything on how I can improve, so I can only assume that I was lacking in something that was basic… could it be that my movements aren't as sharp anymore ...?',_ even occasionally flickering to more panicked thoughts like ' _Bloody hell what if that was his way of saying that he's going to kick me off the reserve team?!'_

My restless state infuriated me greatly and with a soft huff, I shut the book and buried my head in my arms. My mood had been fluctuating too much as of late from the combination of stress and the lack of sleep and as a result it was near impossible for me to get any work done. If I continued like this, I would go mad, assuming I wasn't already losing my mind.

Slowly but surely, darkness crept upon me as my eyes gradually fluttered shut, my breathing falling into a sort of soft rhythm. A calming sense of peace came over me, though it felt uncannily like the calm before a storm.

* * *

.

I opened my eyes and looked down at myself.

Suddenly, I was seven years old again, clad in casual clothes and my black hair pulled messily into short pigtails. I rode around on my toy broom, giggling incoherently as I did so, grey eyes shining with pure joy.

I was in an open field which I recognised as the field near the Malfoy Manor. It felt peaceful as I absently watched a few silver peacocks stride past, the sunlight reflecting off their ornate tails.

Nearby, a young boy with pale-blonde hair was hovering unsteadily on his broom and I immediately headed to join him in his little flight. He shot me a toothless smile that looked smug and I cocked my head sidewards in confusion.

 _SWOOOOOOOSSSH!_

With a burst of speed, he sped away from me. I pouted at that.

"You- meanie, wait for me!" I called out indignantly, cheeks puffing out and turning red, but he turned, stuck out his tongue at me and sped off even faster. Refusing to back down from that challenge, I immediately chased after him, grinning upon feeling the wind against my face, whistling in my ears as I accelerated faster and faster -

\- There was a blinding light, and suddenly, I was in a different place all together. There was a roar of sound that I was vaguely accustomed to as I took a look around.

It was the Quidditch Pitch, looking unusually warped with the stands being coloured strangely, with streaks of silver, like how the stands at Beauxbatons had been. But the Pitch was so very large, much larger than the one at Beauxbatons had ever been, and the stone castle that was Hogwarts loomed nearby- there was no doubt that I was at Hogwarts.

I was a mere seven-year-old hovering around the Pitch. Suddenly, rushes of bright, vivid crimson sped past me and I looked up to see that suddenly there was a game going on right before my very eyes- Gryffindor against Slytherin, in fact. Draco no longer hovered on his toy broomstick, instead showing off his Nimbus Two Thousand and One with a superior expression, clad in emerald green robes.

Oliver Wood was suddenly hovering in front of me, his usual amiable and warm features arranged in a scowl.

"What are you doing?" He said, dark eyes boring into mine. I looked down to see that I was still a young kid riding a toy broomstick, and the realisation that _'ah, I don't belong here'_ struck me suddenly as he zoomed away without sparing me another glance, crimson robes fluttering in his wake.

The toy broomstick began to buck and jerk about in midair, before dragging it along with me. I could only watch as it sped off closer and closer to the Whomping Willow, looming ominously in the distance, terrible laughter from the crowd ringing in my ears as it went faster at my protest, as if determined to bring me down in its suicidal attempt to destroy itself.

Draco's voice was suddenly by my ear, though I flailed around wildly and saw no one.

"You're a Gryffindor, aren't you?" He taunted, and in my mind I imagined his lips curling into a sneer. "You shouldn't be afraid."

I opened my mouth to let out a scream, only to realise that I had let go of the broomstick and was falling backwards towards the ground that was so far below. Gravity was consuming me as I plunged down towards the edge of the pitch, my hair whipped around by the wind and my gut heart-wrenchingly numb.

Desperately, I tried to locate my wand, but alas, I hadn't gotten one when I was seven. I shut my eyes and opened them. The amount of time it took for me to hit the ground was devastatingly long, and my lungs heaved as I attempted to calm myself down.

Staring up at the jeering crowd in the stands, the game continued on. It was like I wasn't even there. I continued to fall helplessly- of course I would die in such an utterly ridiculous manner!

The ground loomed before me, and I shut my eyes.

.

It was at that very moment I woke up.

(I heard the sickening sound of bones cracking and flesh hitting the ground before I felt it.)

.

* * *

Author's Note:

Just a bit of foreshadowing here. I would love to hear your thoughts on this chapter!


	13. Chapter 12

Chapter Twelve; What Must Not Be Spoken Of

* * *

I sat up with a start.

Bright light filtered through the window harshly, and as I blinked the sleep out of my eyes, something dawned on me. Somehow, I had fallen asleep here in the _library_ , of all places. It was a comfortable place to study, but certainly not a comfortable place to sleep.

"Bloody weird dreams I won't ever understand," I grumbled before I looked at the time.

"Shit!" My mouth fell open immediately. It was 10.45- Merlin knows how I had slept for so long.

The Quidditch match would be starting soon about fifteen minutes- Seamus and Dean would probably be losing their heads over me not meeting them on time. Any lingering thoughts of my dream vanished.

Cursing my idiocy, (who even falls asleep in the library overnight nowadays?) I gathered my pile of books as I hurriedly ran out of the library. Madam Pince made a noise of shock when she saw me seemingly emerge from nowhere, sounding something like _'Where did you come from?'_ I ignored her and bolted even faster.

At this ungodly hour, there were only a few people studying in the library- for example, the Ravenclaw Prefect Penelope Clearwater, who I recognised as well, the girl who was snogging Percy on Valentine's Day. My face reddened at the memory. She must not be very interested in Quidditch if she was still here studying. It was strange that Percy wasn't here to accompany her. I turned away, clearing my throat as I looked around and was reminded of the time Colin Creevey had barged into the library with his camera, only to be chased out by Madam Pince for the distracting flashes of light his camera gave off.

I caught sight of iconic bushy-brown hair just as I left the library and my eyes widened in recognition.

"Hermione!" I called out, hurrying to catch up with her. She turned back at me in surprise, looking surprisingly grim for some reason.

"Hello, Rhia." She said, and I noted that she seemed more... shifty than usual, for the lack of better words. The Golden Trio were always a mysterious bunch, and Hermione was not an exception. She had always struck me as the paranoid type- probably one of the reasons I could empathise with her fairly well.

"What's wrong, Hermione? We should hurry, if not we're going to miss the match." I said concernedly as I began to hurry forward.

"Rhia, wait. It's not safe." Hermione stated, and I looked back at her in confusion.

"Listen," she continued, voice dropping to a hushed whisper, and I stopped in my tracks. "I found out what's been causing all these attacks- it's a Basilisk."

I took a moment to process that.

What in the world was a Basilisk? I assumed that it was a monster that did something that Petrified the victims. It was then did I regret not ever reading _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them._

According the the introduction of Transfiguration for beginners, dark forms of Transfiguration did exist, namely referring to Petrification. I had never been able to find out what exactly caused Petrification, however, but Hermione had just handed me the answer.

Admittedly, if I hadn't known Hermione, I might not have believed her straight away. She obviously had her reasons that led her to confirm that the Monster attacking the students was a Basilisk.

"I'm assuming that if we look at it, we die, or something like that?" I asked, though I actually had no idea what the monster was in itself. The word 'Basilisk' did sound serpentine. Was the Heir of Slytherin controlling this Basilisk and instructing it to attack Muggle-borns? Why was there one at Hogwarts?

"If you look at its eyes, in fact, and directly." She corrected, and I cleared my throat uncomfortably.

"We need a mirror, then." I replied. This reminded me somewhat of the tale I had read as a child about the Three Gorgons- if you looked them in the eye, you would turn into stone. I believed that there was even a Muggle version of the story, of a woman named Medusa and a hero named Theseus.

Hermione glanced at my pile of possession in my arms, evidently hoping that I would have had one. I shook my head, though my gaze fell onto my stack of textbooks in my arms. Something crossed my mind. If we didn't have one, why not just create it?

"I can transfiguring something. I heard the spell somewhere before." I suggested, immediately digging through my pile of books to find something I wouldn't mind losing. The brown-haired girl looked on with interest, but looked scandalised when I chose 'Gadding with Ghouls' to become my metaphorical guinea pig for this transfiguration experiment.

I was suddenly grateful for the hours spent on extra reading- people like Ron Weasley had commented that I would never have a need for all those extra knowledge- useless, he called it. Pulling out my wand, I silently did some estimations in my head before I firmly tapped the cover of the book with my wand.

 _"Repercussa Speculo!"_

The transformation wasn't instantaneous. The book was first wiped clean, Lockhart's face on the cover and all, and the pages seemed to meld together. Collectively, the book became thinner and thinner, before the colour seemed to drain away. Taking on a metallic sheen, it shrunk in size slightly as it turned out to resemble a medium-sized compact mirror- you could open it and it would have dual mirrors on each side.

"Think this will work?" I handed her the book-turned-mirror. Hermione held it up to the light for reflection, and I peered into it in curiosity. I stared at my reflection, half glad that my spell succeeded but on the other hand grimacing at the dark circles under my eyes.

"Looks good." She nodded in approval. I went over to her side as we then hurriedly walked off towards the Quidditch pitch. After a few minutes of somewhat tense silence, she stopped however, and I stopped as well, looking over at her, frowning.

"What's wrong?"

A sort of paleness had made its way across Hermione's face as she spoke, her voice unnaturally breathless. It was like she was hyperventilating, and a feeling of panic surged through me as I watched her usual calm demeanour crumble.

"Something's watching us." She breathed out, her voice sounding small, and I couldn't help but feel that she was right. There was something near us- something with an unusually intense aura, for the lack of better words. Correction: it was very much _murderous._

At that revelation, I instinctively huddled closer to her, shutting my eyes and trying to pinpoint where exactly the murderous stare was coming from. I didn't dare to look around, in the fear accidentally looking at the monster, should it be around. The realisation dawned on me quickly and I couldn't help the wrenching coldness in my gut.

Something was stirring. I had heard the unmistakeable sound of something slithering about- the sound of scales against concrete.

"Behind." I took in a breath, trying to calm myself down. "It's right behind us."

Shakily, Hermione raised up the mirror in her hand to directly in front of us. My eyes searched the mirror, gazing at the large- _thing_ that stood behind us. I desperately tried to calm down my breathing as I plunged my free hand into my robes, gripping on the handle of my wand like it was my lifeline. My gaze couldn't be torn away from the mirror as my breathing quickened as fresh fear spiked within me.

There was no way we could fight off this thing.

Tall, huge, scaly, reptilian and clearly hostile. The Basilisk was as tall as the corridor itself, and it looked squeezed into the corridor. Running was no good, for all it needed was one push forward to engulf us completely. It loomed closer and closer, and suddenly all we could see were yellow, reptilian eyes staring at us through the mirror.

Alas, we should have continued walking after all.

.

* * *

Dean was waiting outside the locker rooms.

After an unsuccessful attempt to find Rhia in the stands, he had quickly calmed down an anxious Seamus before heading over to the locker rooms. For all they know, Rhia could simply have wanted to wish her team the best of luck, and was going to meet them sooner.

For some reason, there was a feeling of unease that Dean felt, one that was shared by Seamus. It possibly had something to do with the fact that they had returned to the dormitories yesterday only to find that their dormitories had been seemingly ransacked, with a terrified Neville showing them the mess of scattered books and torn pages. Harry who had looked like his greatest fears had come true, had simply rushed out of the dormitories with Ron upon seeing the mess.

Dean craned his neck to look forward as the door swung open abruptly, and the Quidditch team quickly spilled out of the room, led by their captain Oliver Wood. Dean caught sight of a familiar black-haired seeker and hurried forwards.

"Harry-" He called, only to be cut off by the deafening roar that greeted the Quidditch team. "Harry!"

Harry turned around quickly, looking confused.

"Dean? What's wrong?"

"It's about Rhia," Dean replied, eyes still searching the crowd above as if expecting Rhia to just appear from mid-air. "Was she with the team in the locker room anywhere?"

At the bewildered expression on Harry's face, Dean let out a sigh.

"Haven't seen her since yesterday, you know. Seamus is nearly losing his mind over this," he commented. Looking up, he saw a familiar dishevelled-looking wizard rushing over.

"Any luck finding her?" Seamus demanded, his face red from running around. He began to pace around, nearly wrenching his hands together at the reply Dean gave him.

"Something had to have happened to her," his words spilled out anxiously. "She- she wouldn't just forget about meeting us here today, unless... unless something was wrong."

After a few moments of anxious pacing, Seamus came to a stop as he focused on a tall and burly figure not far away, eyes widening in recognition. His lips parted as he took a step forward.

"That guy there was talking to Greenwood about something a few days ago," he stated, something glimmering in his eyes. "He's the Gryffindor captain, isn't he? Oliver Wood. Maybe he knows what happened to her."

Just as Seamus made to approach Wood, he was forced to stop in his tracks as a disruption in the form of Professor McGonagall's voice rang out over the pitch, sounding loud, clear, and especially grim.

"This match has been postponed. All students are to make their way back to their dormitories. As quickly as possible, please!"

"But professor- the match!" Wood immediately stepped after the professor, who was ignoring his protests as she turned and marched towards them, looking grave.

"Potter, you might want to follow me. Weasley, it's best if you come too." The professor said. "Same goes for you, Finnigan and Thomas."

They trailed after McGonagall in tense silence, and Dean noted the wide-eyed expression Seamus had upon the realisation that they were currently standing in front of the doors of the Hospital Wing. Why were they here?

Professor McGonagall stood in front of the great wooden doors, looking as if she was also preparing herself for what was awaiting them within.

"This may come as a bit of a shock to you," she forewarned, an unexpected gentleness to her voice, before she stepped forward and decisively pushed open the doors, leading them inside in silence.

"Hermione!"

Dean stared at the lifeless figure of Hermione Granger, feeling horror strike him at the sight of the brilliant witch before he slowly dragged his gaze to the bed adjacent to her.

Expecting something bad to happen was one thing, but having the worst come true right before your eyes was another. Seeing the dark-haired girl on the bed next to Hermione, he found himself staring at the motionless figure of Rhiannon Greenwood, feeling a strange mixture of feelings rise up within him- disbelief, fear, but namely shock.

She had said it herself- she was a pure-blood. Why had this happened to her...?

Someone beside him took a step forward. It was Seamus, looking wide-eyed, stunned and deathly pale. The sandy-haired wizard drew in a shaky breath, before walking towards the bed and letting his fingers curl around Rhia's cold and unmoving ones with great resolve.

They left the hospital wing a while later, with leaden footsteps and a heavy heart. Seamus was uncharacteristically silent, though Dean had to admit that he wasn't up for conversation anyway.

He was all the more surprised when Seamus spoke, his voice sounding croaky, which startled Dean a bit.

"What do you think happened?"

He didn't wait for a reply, though, as he continued to rattle on.

"It- it got her. But she's a pure-blood, ain't she? She shouldn't have been... " He was staring off into space now, lost in his shocked state. Dean remembered how Rhia had looked, unusually dishevelled despite her need for tidiness, and the look of horror on her usual calm features. Whatever did this to them must have been downright _terrifying._

"She was at the wrong place at the wrong time, maybe." He reasoned, though everything sounded absurd to him at this moment. "Or she knew something. Maybe both."

The sandy-haired boy fell silent at his words, and silence descended upon them.

"She was hurting, you know."

Seamus said suddenly, blue eyes staring forward as if remembering terrible things. He then immediately shut his eyes, wincing at himself and looking frustrated.

"Sorry," the Irish wizard burst out suddenly, wringing his hands together.

"I- I don't know what I'm saying." He groaned, shaking his head profusely, and something in his voice sounded hoarse and raw. Sighing, he turned away and fell silent.

The helplessness of his tone reminded Dean of a young child, and it was disturbingly unlike his usual crooked charisma. Dean couldn't sleep that night, and from the sounds of tossing and turning throughout the night, he had a nagging suspicion that he was far from being the only one.

.

In the following days, Seamus had remained mysterious and significantly gloomier than usual. Without the presence of a nagging Rhia, loads of his assignments remained untouched and he grew sloppier than ever, no longer bothering to tuck in his shirt or clean up after himself.

That was not the only change, however, as Dean found Seamus sticking to his side every passing minute, as if afraid that the former would vanish into nothing should he take his eyes of him for even a second.

Dean had long since come to terms with Seamus, who had grown to be more and more withdrawn about his private matters as time went by. He could still remember Seamus' cheerful proclamation over dinner a year ago clearly and how eagerly he would respond to anyone who would listen to him.

 _"Dad's a Muggle. Mam's a witch,"_ the Irish wizard would say while generously helping himself to more pie, looking around for their attention with a glint to his eyes and a toothy grin. _"Bit of shock for him when he found out."_

As second year began, however, Dean noticed that the owls Seamus used to look forward to every morning had slowly but surely diminished. Seamus always seemed normal, and he never acted like there was something wrong. He had long learnt not to ask anything about Seamus' more private life, decided to never pry, but frankly, sometimes he worried him.

Persistently, they visited the hospital wing every day, convinced that Rhia's subconscious would somehow be able to detect their presence and she would wake up, because a nasty beast wouldn't take her down that easily. But considering that Rhia was currently lying in the bed, unmoving and lifeless, she had not been spared.

They weren't the only ones who visited her frequently, for the next day Dean deftly caught the scent of something citrus-y and lo and behold, there were a bouquet of peonies, looking bright and cheery in comparison to the general atmosphere in the Hospital Wing.

"Good thing Greenwood's not awake then," Seamus weakly attempted to joke. "I can see her crying from joy."

"Yeah, she's a sap." Dean agreed, laughing somewhat before silence engulfed them once more. Seamus simply stared at the purple flowers glumly, looking like he was considering something.

Dean didn't question when Seamus disappeared into the library for a few moments. Neither did he question the small pot of flowers- pansies, in fact which came for Seamus the next morning in the post, who immediately hid them under the table and refused to crumble under the many curious gazes bestowed upon him.

(It was easily the first parcel the sandy-haired Irish wizard had gotten in a while. Dean noted that the regular letters that usually came for Rhia from her mother have stopped, and something in his heart wrenched.)

.


	14. Chapter 13

Chapter Thirteen; Misfortune

* * *

"But- Madam Pomfrey!"

"Rules are rules. Now off you go, shoo! Go on!"

It was with great misfortune that Madam Pomfrey regretfully chased them out of the hospital wing that afternoon, as if she was afraid that the culprit would come finish the job. As they trudged away from the hospital wing, Dean did not miss the burning intensity present in his friend's' eyes.

Seamus seemed to have regained his confidence of sorts, his previous gloominess having dissipated away almost completely.

"I'm going to sneak in later," Seamus declared determinedly, looking towards him as if expecting an objection. "I'm going to see her. Whether they let me or not."

"I'm coming with you." Dean said in response almost automatically.

It was a simple statement which came to him without difficulty- he always said that, because he always accompanied Seamus everywhere. Things were just like that between them- they got along well and never asked much from each other.

But then-

"You musn't, Dean," Seamus' eyes fell shut as he shook his head firmly. "We're not going to put you in danger like that."

Dean, knowing full well that he was just being protective, almost wanted to protest against that notion, but one look at the stubborn glint in Seamus' eyes shut him up. At that, he dismissively let out a sigh of defeat.

"Fine then," he said, brown eyes darting up to glance at him. "But you're not going in to have to find a way to sneak in, what with all the professors patrolling the corridors nowadays."

They turned the corner to recognise two red-headed brothers not far away- none other than the infamous Fred and George Weasley.

"I think I got a plan," Seamus said after a while, his lips shrewdly curling up in a grin as he stared after the kings of mischief.

.

* * *

It turned out that it was in that night in particular that Seamus was simply unlucky, as he came to realise as he rounded the corner leading to the hospital wing.

With the helpful assistance of Fred and George, he managed to hide himself with a Disillusionment Charm- though that didn't seem very effective when he was confronted with a professor- or more specifically, the gloomy Potions Master.

Professor Snape loomed before him, his expression as acidic as ever. His dark robes billowed behind him as he slowly stalked past him. It was almost as if he could sense his curious gaze, for his footsteps came to a halt. Turning around, his pallid features were cold as his eyes travelled the corridor, flitting at the portraits that hung on the walls and then looking right through him.

His breathing stopped as he felt his entire body go rigid. The pot of pansies that he had gotten by post was clutched tightly in his hands behind him. The moment Snape decided there was someone there and decided to cast whatever kinds of revealing spells there were, he would be done for.

Suddenly, Snape's nostrils seemed to dilate just the slightest before his cold, dark eyes searched the corridor. Seamus' eyes widened as a realisation hit him.

Could he actually be _smelling_ the flowers?

He gaped at that horrific notion.

There was silence as Snape simply stood there, as if he were thinking. The pale candlelight reflected off the grease in his hair, making him look gloomier than usual.

Seamus hoped that whatever Snape had gotten a whiff of, he would brush it off as just a random scent. He stiffened and shut his eyes- hoping that Snape would just go away.

After what seemed like forever, the Head of Slytherin House turned and walked away, his dark robes billowing after him as his footsteps thudded against the corridor. Once he was out of sight, Seamus let out the breath he was holding before he bolted to the wooden doors that were only nearby, quietly pushing them open and sliding inside- only to halt once more as he heard a voice other than Madam Pomfrey's emanating from her office.

"After they were found, I had the mirror checked before I managed to untransfigure it. It was a book- belonging to Miss Greenwood, in fact. I imagine they knew something about their attacker, something that required them have a mirror."

He sent a curious stare at their direction at the mention of Rhia, but then he reminded himself that he was not supposed to be here. Quickly sneaking towards where she lay, he took great pains to be careful, not about to let his clumsy tendencies give him away of all things. He stood, staring at her lifeless form, taking in how it looked like she was just asleep.

Shaking his head, he made to put his flowers on her bedside table before he caught sight of the other bouquet that had been left by somebody else. A few thoughts hit him. Already, the petals were beginning to wilt away at the edges. How long would it be before the flowers was thrown away by Madam Pomfrey? Would that happen to his pot of flowers too?

He stared on in silent contemplation, the pot of pink pansies still clutched in his hands. In a spur of the moment decision, he grabbed the bouquet of flowers- purple peonies, it seemed, before he stashed them in the pocket of his robes. Reaching out to grab Rhia's hand, he gave it a light squeeze before he quickly ducked out of the hospital wing, leaving before any of the professors present there could detect his presence.

Madam Pomfrey and Professor McGonagall had evidently stepped out of the office, for Madam Pomfrey was now launching into a tirade, sounding nearly hysterical from piling levels of stress.

"Never- never in all my time in Hogwarts have such utterly strange things occurred! First, that Professor Snape shows up here asking about the Mandrakes, even though Pomona is only a few floors away _and_ not to mention, his patrol isn't even set for today! Then flowers just _magically_ go missing, do they?" She ranted furiously, and he could hear McGonagall give a sympathetic reply in response as the Matron seemed to be on the verge of angry tears.

Seamus shut the door as silently as possible, almost feeling bad for the school nurse as he headed back towards the Gryffindor tower.

The Fat Lady was currently dozing off at his approach, swinging open upon hearing the password, though she looked around in alarm when she could see nothing before her in the inky darkness.

"Who's there?!" She demanded as Seamus looked down and quietly hurried through the portrait hole. Climbing up the staircase, he tapped himself on the head as the twins told him to do and a trickling hot sensation encompassed him, undoing the Disillusionment charm.

"Seamus!" Dean jolted up from his bunk the moment he saw him, sliding his feet out from other his covers to face him. "How did it go? Did you...? "

In response, Seamus brought out the bouquet of peonies he had nicked from the Hospital Wing as well as his own pot of pink pansies. Dean's eyebrows knitted together in confusion as he took in the sight.

"I was under the impression you wanted to give flowers, not take them," he stated slowly, feeling thoroughly confused as he stared at the Irish wizard. Seamus set the flowers on his bedside table, peonies and pansies alike, pulling his shirt over his head as he went about changing into his nightwear in silence.

"Didn't want Madam Pomfrey to go throwing them away," he mumbled in reply indignantly after a while, though his face was tinged pink slightly.

Dean didn't question that notion as Seamus got into bed and pulled his covers over himself. Neither of them spoke and he found himself listening to the soft snores of Neville, who was only a bunk away, before falling victim to sleep himself mere moments later.

.


	15. Chapter 14

Chapter Fourteen; What Speaks a Hundred Words?

* * *

"I wish Hermione was here," remarked a pale-faced Neville as he stared down at his textbook, his eyebrows furrowing. His eyes darted in between the lines he was reading in confusion, and alas he slumped back with a troubled sigh.

Sighing, he flipped the page and proceeded to read the rest of the text, his confused expression unchanging.

With the new curfew put into place about how no one was to be out and about from six onward, the common room grew increasingly crowded with each passing day. The attacks had undeniably affected Gryffindor the most, the count being three students and one ghost who was attacked. The blatant lack of victims from Slytherin was suspicious- but it was easy to tell than everyone had expected that.

As of now, even with the number of people who were in the common room, there was a tense silence as most were studying for the end of term exams right around the corner. Dean stared helplessly at his work- he had lost his train of thoughts during the previous chapter and ended up sketching out in ink highly detailed and elaborate face of a random man on the corner of his textbook. Seamus sat next to him, face lying on the table, twiddling his quill in his fingers as he made sense of the chapter of _The Standard Book of Charms, Year Two_ he was perusing. Opposite them, Neville sat, pouring over his potions textbook anxiously. With exams less than a week away, it was not like they could afford to do something more enjoyable.

There had been a great outrage when McGonagall announced just yesterday that there would be end-of-year examinations going on even with the current situation, not when there had been a double attack just recently. In the midst of all the stone-faced students memorising their lives off, and the rare minority simply sitting by themselves in their own small huddled groups.

Seamus perked up suddenly.

"Hey," he said, eyes focusing on something. "What's going on there?"

Dean turned around. Near them, there seemed to be a confrontation of sorts going on between the upper-year Quidditch students, Alicia Spinnet and Oliver Wood. The fourth-year Chaser had her hands on her hips and hair falling in her face as she was hissing something furiously at the Quidditch Captain, who's face looked somewhat neutral.

They argued in hushed tones, though it was still audible over the remarkable silence of the common room. After a while, they brought the argument to outside of the common room, and a silence fell upon them once more.

"What was that about?" Dean wondered out loud, staring at the spot where the duo had disappeared.

Neville shrugged, though clearly bewildered. "Well... as long as they get back before curfew."

It was then did the three of them fall quiet, and the sound of the glum flipping of pages resumed its hold over the students of Gryffindor as angry stares continued to fall upon textbooks in their quest to cram last-minute revision.

.

* * *

The Gryffindor Tower may have been relatively quiet a few days earlier, but today was the first time that the tower had been shrouded with such grave, solemn silence.

The boy's dormitory was an utter wreck. Clothes and books were strewn on the floor, with the occasional left-over food item from somewhere. Boxers hung on bedstands and stray sheets of parchment decorated their beds. Ever since the incident in which someone ransacked their dormitory, it seemed that no one had really bothered to clean up.

It wouldn't have mattered anyway, considering that they were being sent away from Hogwarts the very next day.

Dean and Neville sat on the floor, packing their things, neither of them speaking. In the meantime, Seamus lay in his covers, his belongings remaining untouched. He effectively ignored everyone, his tie pulled over his eyes as he lay on his bed.

Even with the good news regarding the Petrified victims that morning, the news that had come later on that day had been horrific.

"At least Rhia's waking up soon," Dean spoke in an attempt to get Seamus' attention. It worked, for after a few moments of silence, there was a rustle of fabric as Seamus made himself sit up. He stared at them, his usual charisma not there and his blue eyes bleary.

"She's not going to be happy," he said forlornly, shaking his head. "Waking up to find that this might be the end of Hogwarts? Greenwood's not going to take it well at all."

Neville sounded out a noise in agreement, before commenting softly.

"How could this happen? And for them to take Ginny- "

The round-faced boy stopped abruptly as he heard footsteps thudding up the stairwell. The silence grew thick as they realised it was Fred and George, who had uncharacteristically not uttered a single word for the entire afternoon. The footsteps faded away as the hunched over backs of the twins disappeared into their own dormitory.

The Weasleys, be it Ron or Fred and George, had always been a lively bunch. One would even say that they were the ones who brought life to the Gryffindors with their outgoing and humorous personalities- or rather they shone the brightest in Gryffindor.

It was without a doubt that they were the ones who were hit by the news the hardest, for even the ones who so normally tried to lighten the spirits of everybody in times like these had fallen silent. Even Percy Weasley, who usually seemed so bent on flaunting his Prefect status had said nothing as he entered the common room that day.

No one had expected little Ginny Weasley, the sweet and shy first-year to be taken into the Chamber of Secrets- no one knew what was going to become of her. For all they knew, she could already be dead.

There were a pronounced hollowness in the hearts of everybody, as everyone was undoubtedly overcome with dread- would this really be the end of their days in Hogwarts? Was the fate of young Ginny indefinitely sealed?

Seamus climbed out of bed, reluctantly pulling his trunk from under his bed as he began to pack his possessions into it. Looking around, his eyes landed on the flowers on his bedside table- a bouquet of peonies and a pot of pansies- and he frowned, leaving them untouched. Lightly, he reached out to brush against the cool, smooth petals of the pansies before his hand fell slumped back to his side.

Wordlessly, he stuffed the rest of his belongings in his trunk, not caring to arrange any of them properly, before he pulled his tie over his head and slumped back into his bed with a sort of weariness. The recent events were playing over and over in his mind as if on repeat and he shut his eyes.

Dean was in danger. Rhia and Hermione Granger, along with many others had been attacked. Ginny Weasley was taken away from them entirely. Hogwarts was possibly (and likely) coming to an end.

What was he going to do?

(It seemed that the toll of the recent events finally got to him, because it didn't take long before Seamus was quickly lulled into a dark, dreamless sleep.)


	16. Chapter 15

Chapter Fifteen; Mornings

* * *

"Psst, _Seamus_! Seamus!"

Someone was calling for him. Whoever it was, it sounded vaguely familiar, but in his groggy state he barely made out who it was. Groaning, the Irish wizard stirred in his slumber. He shifting around in his covers, but didn't respond.

"Seamus, wake up!"

Who was sounding so damn enthusiastic about waking up in the morning? Was it even morning yet?

Now awake, Seamus closed his eyes and groaned, rubbing away at his sleep-crusted eyes. The events of yesterday flooded into his mind once more, and he was reminded of the fact that they were going to have to leave Hogwarts today.

Lazily opening an eye, his vision cleared as he recognised a round, pale-looking face... whose features were also shining with joy.

Now he just felt confused.

"Come on now, there's a feast!"

Dean popped up beside Neville, sending him a wide beam. Vaguely, Seamus wondered if this was a dream as he reluctantly dragged himself to sit in an upright postion. Blinking several times, his vision focused as he fixed his eyes onto his best friend.

"...Whatareyoutalkingabout...?" The moment he opened his mouth to question them, he broke out in a yawn.

In response, Neville beamed excitedly.

"Hogwarts is safe! We're don't have to go back anymore!" He said, voice barely managing to contain his joy.

Seamus blinked, running his hand through his hair in confusion, barely comprehending what Neville said.

"You mean they succeeded in catching the culprit?" He managed to choke out. His mind was beginning to clear as what had to be a bazillion thoughts ran through his head, though a feeling of excitement was bubbling in his stomach.

Hogwarts was going to be alright after all.

From behind Neville, Dean nodded, stepping forth to pull Seamus to his feet.

"C'mon, let's go already!" Neville piped up, beaming as they began to hurry out of the common room together, none of them bothering to change out of their pyjamas. All around them, many of them were the same- Fred and George rushed past them with the vigour of somebody coming back to life. They were all united by the immense looks of relief and joy that adorned their faces.

Percy Weasley stood by the portrait hole, horned glasses askew as he hoarded them out of the common room, with what had to be the widest smile he had in the whole term on his face. The sight was heartening, for it meant that everything was really alright- Ginny Weasley had been saved.

Seamus grinned and his footsteps quickened as if on instinct.

* * *

I blinked.

My eyes felt dry as the surroundings of the Hospital Wing faded into my vision, and I felt unaccustomed to the light that came from the lamp beside my bed. I made to shift around, only to find that I felt incredibly weak and my limbs were nearly unresponsive. Trying to move again, I managed to prop myself up on the bed, with my the joints in my back letting out a few cracks in protest as I did so.

Groaning, I let my eyes roam the Hospital Wing. I felt terrible but somewhat energised- like I had just taken a very, _very_ long nap.

A figure tottered over, a gigantic spoon in her hand, peering over the side of my bed to look at me. She scribbled some things down on a clipboard and seemed to be waiting for me to do something.

"... Good morning." I greeted amiably out of habit, though my voice was raspy and hoarse from unuse. Everything felt groggy. In fact, I could barely recall what happened before I passed out.

 _Though_ , I thought as I glanced out the window opposite me _, it's not exactly morning, is it? Oops._

But Madam Pomfrey simply turned towards me and let out a sniff.

"... Good morning, Miss Greenwood. Have some Strengthening Potion before you go, please. Do avoid hard foods as much as possible for the next two days or so."

With a wave of her wand, a vial flew into her hand before the contents poured itself into a spoon. I gingerly took the spoon, wincing as my hands were trembling slightly from the movement and drank down the potion, noting how dry my throat felt as the fiery potion went down my throat. I then made to move out of my bed, but Madam Pomfrey stopped me.

"Give it a few minutes until the effects fully sink in, Miss Greenwood." She said, forcibly tucking a white blanket over my legs. Turning, she headed off to another bed to administer the potion, leaving me to stare blankly in the air for a few minutes.

The Matron returned some time later, that clipboard still in her hand. She conducted a few more tests, making sure that I had recovered completely before she finally deemed me well enough to go.

"Thank you, Madam Pomfrey." I beamed at her, though wincing at how my cheek muscles felt strained and sore. The woman gave me a nod before heading over to fuss over Justin Finch-Fletchley. My eyes wandered the Hospital Wing some more and caught sight of a familiar bushy-haired girl sitting up from her bed and my expression lit up somewhat.

"Do you want me to wait for you, Hermione?" I directed at her, in which she sent me a good-natured smile but shook her head.

"It's fine, Rhia. You go on ahead, I'll catch up with you later."

At that, I nodded, giving her a wave before I stepped out of the Hospital Wing.

I let out a sigh, taking my time to navigate away from the Hospital Wing. Even with the strengthening potion, my body still felt stiff from being frozen in that position for so long. Stopping to stretch a little, I winced as I heard a few joints crack some more at the movement.

How long had I been in the Hospital Wing? If I was feeling this sore and stiff, I couldn't imagine how Colin and Justin were, having been Petrified for what seemed to be a few months.

After stretching for a while, I felt immensely better, and proceeded to head... somewhere. I found myself just standing there in the corridor, feeling clueless when there was nobody to guild me to where to go next.

Where was I supposed to go, anyway?

Looking around, I decided to head to the common room. It was the best bet, after all- though most people would be asleep at this hour. That was fine, I could just meet them tomorrow.

As I approached her, the Fat Lady eyed me, a hint of a smile on her face.

"Hullo." I spoke, my voice sounding better though still terrible. "Has the password changed?"

The Fat Lady shifted in her elaborate dress, eyes staring down at me in great interest.

"No," She replied, a cordial smile on her painted lips. "But there is somewhere else you might want to be."

I blinked. Did that mean that there was something going on right now, and no one was here? I glanced at her once more, before asking.

"I see. Where am I supposed to go?"

"The Great Hall for the Feast, dear," she said casually, tipping up the goblet in her hand as she did so. There was a glint in her eyes which confused me greatly. "Do enjoy yourself."

"Feast?" I questioned in confusion, wondering if I'd heard correctly. The last time I checked, the school was in a state of near grave peril- unless the culprit had been caught? What else would there be to celebrate in the middle of the term?

"Yes, the Feast. You'll understand when you get there," the Fat Lady said with a note of finality, waving me off lazily with her hand.

Her expression was now unreadable and I protested at the vagueness of her statement inwardly. Nevertheless, I remained silent.

Thanking her, I turned and hurried towards the Great Hall.

Absent-mindedly patting my robes, I was more than relieved to find that my wand was still in my robe pocket. I had no idea what happened to the textbooks that I had with me when Hermione and I got accosted by that dirty snake. I still felt very much in a daze as the unpleasant memory of the great beast flashed across my mind and I flinched unwittingly at that remembrance.

It hadn't sunk in that I had been Petrified and lying practically lifeless in the Hospital Wing for who-knows-how-long. It felt like a normal school day- it felt like I had overslept through my early morning studying and had to end up rushing to breakfast before it ended.

Eerily, there was practically no one about (though I had to hide from Peeves at some point), which made me want to curse my short legs for not being able to walk faster. The silence put me on edge and made me more afraid that I would encounter any sort of weird disturbances. The last time I thought I was safe, it had not really turned out to be so, right?

I shook off the uneasy feeling and instinctively quickened my pace, my footsteps pit-pattering down the corridor frantically as I turned the corner to spot familiar large wooden doors.

Reaching out to push open the door, I froze when I heard footsteps come up behind me. Blood pounded in my head as I whirled around on the spot. It was then did I recognise the tiny figure with a mop of mousy-brown hair- and I couldn't help but let out a laugh upon seeing the kid alive, well, and very much _not_ -Petrified.

"Good to see you, Colin!" I grinned, giving him a pat on his back.

The small-sized first year beamed up at me toothily. He didn't have his peculiar camera with him- I heard that it got damaged when he was attacked.

"Hello, Rhia!" He greeted back, smiling giddily. "It's been a while, hasn't it?"

I chuckled at that. That was in itself an understatement, because the last time I saw Colin Creevey, he had been trying to sneak a photo of Harry with his broken arm after the Quidditch match. Ruffling his hair, I smiled at the young first-year, again reminded of the fact that we had both encountered a bloody Basilisk and lived to tell the tale.

"Certainly," I responded wryly. "Time to eat breakfast, eh?"

Colin laughed at that, his eyes shining excitably. I looked at his cheerful expression and couldn't help but feel impressed- he had bounced back on his feet immediately after being attacked by a snake in his first year. His mental strength was definitely one to be admired. Unlike me, he was a Gryffindor through-and-through.

Grinning, the mousy-haired boy suddenly grabbed the sleeve of my robes as he pushed open the door with incredible vigour.

Just to humour him, I let him drag me inside as I giggled softly at his energy. After all, the poor boy hadn't had anything to eat for what have to had been at least a few weeks. It must have been quite the sight- the cute, tiny and excitable first-year tugging along a big-sized, awkward second-year transfer student.

As we stepped into the Great Hall, I almost wondered why it was so quiet until I looked towards the front to see Professor Dumbledore looking at us, his eyes twinkling behind those half-moon glasses of his.

Young Colin beamed back at him, almost looking like he was bouncing on his feet. A contagious smile appeared on his lips which made the corners of my own tug up in spite of myself.

"Good morning!" He called out, his voice sounding squeaker than usual and for a moment there was silence as everyone simply stared at us, looking vaguely shell-shocked. I smiled at that- I had said that too, when I had woken up earlier.

(I liked this kid.)

Laughter soon burst out however, appreciative of Colin's subtle humour. He beamed at that, appreciating the attention.

"Morning, mates!" Fred and George chorused in response, their voices ringing out unabashedly. They smirked at us, waving in an over-the-top fashion, prompting us to rejoin our places at the Gryffindor table.

Colin suddenly gave me a quick hug.

"Bye, Rhia!" He spouted out cheerily before he bolted off towards his group of first-year friends. Now that I thought of it, near-encounters with death would surely make one more enthusiastic about living.

Standing there, I shifted around on my feet awkwardly as my eyes scanned the Gryffindor table in search of my best mates. I awkwardly smiled at Oliver Wood, who was seated the closest to me, before flushing as Alicia Spinnet who caught my eye. As I looked further down the table, I caught sight of an all-too-recognisable duo.

Hurrying towards them, I met their eyes as they stared back at me, looking stunned. But then Dean clambered out of his seat and dashed towards me, nearly choking me with his hug.

"Ah," I choked out, overcome with the sudden urge to cry. "I missed you, Dean."

He pulled away moments later and I couldn't do anything but smile at him.

Leading me over to where they sat, I settled down next to Dean and glanced opposite the table to look at Seamus who was squished in between Ron and Lavender. My eyes met his watery blue ones and I really did feel like crying as a corner of his mouth quirked up in that painfully familiar smile of his.

"'Ello, Finnigan." I managed, a corner of my lips curling.

His eyes grew wide and he opened his mouth to speak. but it was at that moment that Dumbledore chose to speak again, and Seamus' mouth fell closed.

I let out a soft laugh before his eyes flickered towards mine, mouthing a hasty _'later'._ I nodded, beaming at the familiarity, before turning to face the front. Whether because my muscles were too stiff or I was simply overjoyed, I couldn't wipe the goofy smile from my face.

My eyes scanned the table of teachers, only to spot Severus, looking stone-faced as usual in those black robes of his. Against my better judgement, I sent him a toothy smile. It might have been my imagination, but his expression looked just a _bit_ less sour than usual.

It was as if I could hear him chastising me for not paying attention to the speech, for with that happy thought I turned back to look at the Headmaster.

"One final announcement," The Headmaster spoke. "Regrettably, Professor Gilderoy Lockhart who taught Defence against the Dark Arts this year has suffered the most unfortunate loss of memory. He will not be able to resume his post next year."

His announcement was met with a roar of applause and quite a few cheers from students and teachers alike, much to the Headmaster's bemusement. I was over the bloody _moon_ at that news- Lockhart was gone from our lives for good! Our days of being terrorised by badly-written books and Cornish Pixies were over at last!

With a flourish of his hand, silence returned as Dumbledore's eyes twinkled through those half-moon glasses of his. He ended off his speech with one last line:

"I have two words for you... Dig in."

It was at this moment that the food appeared on the table, looking more scrumptious than ever, though I sourly remembered Madam Pomfrey's instructions. Instead, I heartily helped myself to some pumpkin soup nearby. I looked over the table, caught Seamus' eye, smiled, and turned my attention back to my soup.

Maybe it was the joy that radiated off every student with the exception of the Slytherins, but even though I had that night was soup, dinner was the most delicious I had ever tasted.

* * *

Somewhere through, the Feast had became more of a celebration as people began to stand up and mingle among the other houses. I beamed as Hermione Granger reappeared sometime later, bounding towards Harry and Ron as she shouted excitedly.

It was indeed an adorable sight, as she shrieked excitedly about Harry solving the mystery and as Ron flitted around her awkwardly, as if torn between hugging her and giving her space.

The Feast seemed to have become a full-blown party as after a while, the food vanished, only to leave refreshments behind on the vast, glimmering tables. Thankfully, the professors were still around to make sure that the party remained strictly alcohol-free- I imagine that Fred and George would attempt to sneak some in.

Sipping some pumpkin juice, I frowned lightly as in the whole commotion, Seamus and Dean had disappeared off to somewhere. As a result, I ended up relaxing by the side of the Great Hall as I quietly watched the others begin to dance to music (was that Green Day they were playing?)

It was amazing, considering almost everyone was decked out in their pyjamas and various states of nightwear, making me feel out of place in my uniform. Admittedly, I was surprised when Colin came back to talk, this time bringing Ginny with them- I hugged them both. I sort of felt like I was doting on them too much, though it was justified in my opinion. Colin had been Petrified, and from what I heard, Ginny had been kidnapped into the Chamber of Secrets. These kids had gone through a lot of shit.

In a way, I guess I just felt comfortable around them, knowing that they were as new to Hogwarts as I was. That notion didn't stop me from growing overly-fond of them. However, my train of thoughts was broken as someone addressed me.

"Rhia?"

A hand patted my arm and I jolted up lightly. Turning around, I was met face-to-face with Alicia Spinnet. Her brown eyes met mine as she smiled warmly, and I flushed lightly at the contact as I was suddenly engulfed in a hug.

"I'm so glad that you're alright!" Alicia near-exclaimed, pulling away and beaming down at me, shaking her head as she did so.

"You had no idea how worried we were," she stated, reaching out a hand to mess up my hair in what I guess had to be a fond gesture. At this point, Angelina Johnson joined us with Katie Bell by her side, their eyes glimmering with mirth. They patted my head too, and I laughed to hide how flustered I felt to be around the whole lot of them.

"Oliver's looking for you, by the way," Alicia spoke, turning around as her eyes sharply sifted through the crowd. I took in the fact that she suddenly seemed much more tense as she mentioned the Quidditch Captain, before I wondered why he would be looking for me, of all people. "Think he has something to tell you, though I have no idea where he is..."

Fred and George chose this very convenient moment to appear, identical features peering towards us as their red hair shimmered under the light of the Great Hall. Fred's lips curled up as he exchanged sly glances with George before he turned back towards us.

"Looking for Oliver?"

"That's easy!"

"Just leave it to us!"

In unison, they cupped their hands over their mouths before turning towards the crowd in what was surely a refined way to locate people you couldn't find.

"OI, OLIVER!"

Several people turned around. Most of them didn't spare them a glance- though several girls giggled- as the crowd seemingly began to part.

Within moments, the Quidditch Captain appeared, squeezing out of the crowd. He sent Fred and George an exasperated look as he stepped free from the crowd, a cup of pumpkin juice in his hand.

"See? Works better than a Summoning Charm." Fred stated, proudly a triumphant look flashing over his features.

"Ah, there he comes!" George pointed out, as if he hadn't been watching Oliver squeeze out of the crowd for the past two minutes.

"Our job here is done," Fred nodded, giving a bow and a tip of an imaginary hat before he stepped away with his brother by his side. "Anyone seen Ginny? We want to talk to her."

I pointed at the end of the Hall where Ginny was with the other first years and watched them go, laughing like an idiot before my eyes snapped back to Oliver. His eyes first trailed over his three Chasers before his eyes finally landed on me after a while.

Oliver smiled, and hurried over to me.

"Just who I was looking for. May I have a word, Rhia?"

I stared up at him, feeling perplexed as I shifted on my feet awkwardly, avoiding his eyes. Nevertheless, I felt myself smile before I nodded, moving to follow him through the crowd and to somewhere less crowded.

Staring after the captain's burly figure ahead, I instinctively crossed my fingers.

.


	17. Chapter 16

Chapter Sixteen; Silly Nothings

* * *

"...What's up, Oliver?" I asked unsurely.

The paranoid part of me wondered if I had somehow gotten in some sort of trouble- though that was stupid. Oliver wasn't so unreasonable as to fault me for missing practice for being in the Hospital Wing, right? Though I guess he technically told me not to fo to practice the other day... My unease was certainly not unfounded, because the last time I talked to Oliver, it hadn't been all that pleasant- for me, that is.

Oliver stopped in his tracks to turn towards me, a hand running through his hair. The contrast between the shifty-looking, pyjama-clad Oliver Wood and the no-nonsense Quidditch captain was interesting, to be frank, though no was hardly the time to point that out.

"Do you remember what I said to you a while ago?" He began. My head slowly gave a nod in reply, not sure where the conversation was headed.

He then continued, dark eyes darting to meet mine. It was almost like he was looking for the right words to say- something told me Oliver wasn't really a socially-ept person, though I could hardly blame him for loving Quidditch more than he loved people.

"You see, I want to er, apologise about that. I might have been too... tactless." He faltered for a bit there, before he fumbled to explain himself. "See, Alicia overheard us and well, she was mad. Called me a bloody git and everything. Said that you probably would've got the wrong idea."

My eyes widened.

"Alicia, you say?"

In response, Oliver nodded, and his expression looked the slightest bit sheepish.

"Yeah. I mean, it's not that she put me up to this or anything, I just wanted to clear things up, you know? Apologise. You weren't dragging the team down or anything, really. But the few days before the match you looked downright exhausted, and you weren't playing like you usually do. So I did some thinking, and thought that it would be better if I gave you a day off because you're our reserve," he admitted, before he shook his head and tried to explain further. "It didn't really come out right, see."

"Oh." At his admission, I stared at him dumbly.

My face felt like it was burning now that I realised what he had meant to say back then- if I had just read in between the lines, I would have understood what he meant to say. I really should have taken his words with a grain of salt. It was kind of too late to dwell on now, however, considering that I had indeed taken it badly and gotten myself Petrified as a result.

I let out a sigh.

"Frankly, I did take it badly, but I guess I don't really mind now. I don't think it's your fault anyway," I replied evenly. "But um, no hard feelings, captain. I'm actually sorta happy that you care about me."

I was greatly embarrassed that I actually admitted that out loud, but since I already blurted that out, there wasn't much I could do to save me from the embarrassment. I looked up to see that Oliver didn't seem to be uncomfortable at my words, on the other hand he looked extremely relieved.

Oliver was beaming at me now. He reached out a hand, messing up my already messed-up hair. Then he slung an arm around my shoulder easily, pulling me against his side.

I stared up at him, feeling nonplussed at my messed up hair.

"Why does everyone do that?" I mumbled, half-whining. I didn't actually mind the head-patting though- it felt significantly less awkward now.

Oliver chuckled at that, dark eyes glimmering in amusement. "Well, you're sort of a midget, Greenwood."

I huffed at that, though I rolled my eyes on good humour. Pushing away from him, I mock-huffed at that observation of his indignantly.

"Back to last-names, are we?" I teased, a corner of my lips curling up.

"'Course not, love," he replied easily in that familiar drawl of his, expression mirroring mine. "Just glad to see my reserve Chaser alive and well."

Pushing himself away from the wall, he got up, sending me a smile. His eyebrows quirked as he sent me a look.

"Well, I'll see you around," he said, sending me a wink. "Hope you like the music, by the way- I picked it."

In the background, _Welcome from Paradise_ from Green Day was still blaring. I grinned back appreciatively.

"Like it? I _love_ it," I corrected, feeling pretty touched that Oliver remembered the conversation we shared some time ago. "Thanks, Oliver."

He turned back, lips curling up in an easy smile. "Anything for a fellow Green Day lover."

"See you around, captain." I responded, grinning cheerily. Oliver raised a hand in response and walked off. It didn't take long before he vanished in the crowd of party-goers. I took that as my cue to leave as well.

A smile formed on my face as I replayed that conversation in my mind. I felt in awe at how easily I was able to talk to the seniors now, though I was reminded of the fact that I barely knew them.

Oliver had actually been looking out for me. Alicia had been worried about me too- that made my smile widen dizzily. Nobody was Petrified anymore, Hogwarts was safe now- though I had yet to get filled in on the exact details.

Something in me wasn't satisfied, however. There were two people who I wanted to talk to the most desperately- and they had disappeared somewhere after the Feast. Darting my way across the Hall, I kept an eye out for the duo, though to my disappointment, they were nowhere in sight.

Had they gone back to the common room? It was plausible, at least.

At that thought, I hurried my way out of the Great Hall. I felt remarkably less stiff as it seems that the Strengthening Potion had done its job well. I felt more alive than ever.

The sight that greeted me in the common room, however, made me halt in my steps.

.

* * *

"Finnigan? What are you doing?" I asked incredulously, mouth falling open at the sight that greeted me.

How was I supposed to respond to this strange sight?

Seamus was holding a bunch of flowers in his arms and was attempting to go up the staircase to the girl's dormitory, which seemed to have smoothened out to become stepless and like a slide. He jumped upon hearing me before falling back and sliding backwards on his bum. Rushing over, I choked on my laughter as I pulled him to his feet.

"Where's Dean?" I asked, biting my lips to stop myself from laughing.

"Back in the dorms," he replied quickly, holding the flowers behind his back. It was an amusing sight, considering the disgruntled look on the sandy-haired boy's face.

I raised an eyebrow at the flowers he held.

"So what were you doing? Off to sneak flowers to your sweetheart, I see." I teased lightly, only to see an enormous flush of colour flood Seamus' face. He then recovered quickly, and brought out the flowers in his hands.

"Guess you're my sweetheart, then." He quipped in response, the corners of his lips curling up cheekily as he did so. I rolled my eyes, though I couldn't help the blood flooding my cheeks at his remark. Clearing my throat lightly, I smiled at him.

"Seriously, what were you trying to do?" I asked curiously, fixing my stare on the staircase, which had seemingly returned back to normal.

Seamus suddenly looked uncomfortable.

"See, you got yourself some flowers from some admirers when you were in the hospital wing, see." He began, looking sheepish for some reason. "So I was thinking that I should surprise you by planting them in your dorm. Dean's upstairs waiting for me, we wanted to go find you at the Great Hall afterward."

Blinking rapidly, I wonder if I had heard wrongly.

"What? F-flowers?" My mouth fell open as I stared at him, aghast at what he said. "You mean, for me?"

Nodding, he passed the flowers in his hands to me. There was a bouquet of purple flowers- peonies, I think, and a small cute pot of pink pansies. Both were anonymous and I could feel my cheeks reddening as the gesture sunk in.

Honestly, both flowers were more of the ' _wishing you a fast recovery_ ' flowers rather than what I dubbed the 'romantic' sort of flowers, but I felt oddly flattered that there were people who actually went all the way to get someone like me flowers.

"Get that silly grin off your face, Greenwood." Seamus said, pretending to huff in annoyance, though he poked at my cheek playfully. I stuck out my tongue at him in response, though I was quickly distracted.

My gaze shifted once again to the flowers, and I couldn't help but feel incredulous.

"Seriously," I mumbled. "Who got me these? I want to say thank you."

Shrugging, Seamus looked away, though he was grinning. I raised an eyebrow at that before I excused myself for a second and ran upstairs, sifting through a book and casting a charm over the flowers to make them last longer. Then I ran back downstairs where Seamus was still waiting. He made to walk off towards the boy's dormitories, gesturing for me to follow him, but not before I quickly stepped forward.

"Hang on, Finnigan," I called out. The sandy-haired boy looked confused as he turned around, hands tucked in his pockets lazily.

I smiled slyly. "I didn't get to hug you just now."

With that said, I stepped forward, wrapping my arms around him. I pulled back quickly however, as things were always more awkward with Seamus than with Dean.

"I missed you, y'know?" I muttered, beaming at him. He looked at me, stunned, though he quickly covered it up with a grin and pulled me in for another hug.

"Me too, Greenwood." He murmured, stepping away to look at me. "I missed you too."

My eyes met his blue ones and I let out a small chuckle, feeling even more happier when it was announced that Lockhart was no longer teaching at Hogwarts.

"C'mon," I said, stepping up the staircase leading to the boy's dormitories. "Let's find Dean. He's up there, right?"

"Yeah, he's drawing again," Seamus stated. He gaped suddenly for some reason, however, as he stared at the sight of me casually climbing up the stairs to the boy's dormitories. "How come you can go up to the boy's dormitories but I can't come visit yours?"

I shrugged, though I turned away to hide my grin. "It's in _Hogwarts: A History_. Us girls are more trustworthy than blokes, apparently."

"That is _bullshit_." He scowled.

"How else do you think I've been sneaking notes to you and Dean this year?" I said, amused at his reaction. "But anyway, it was charmed ages ago- it's nothing personal."

As we walked into the dormitory, Dean looked up from his cosy spot on his bed where he had been doodling away on the bedframe with the ink on his quill. The area around his bed was arguably the cleanest as I felt like I was wading through an ocean of abandoned clothes and school-things.

My nose wrinkled at the mess- I definitely liked it better when I could sneak into their dormitories early in the morning without getting my foot caught on someone's stray boxers.

"What happened here?" I asked, carefully maneuvering around a pile of stale-smelling clothes. Seamus wasn't so lucky- he ended up tripping face first into the pile.

"Someone broke into Harry's stuff and wrecked the dormitories," Dean answered, taking the question in stride as he casually scratched away with his quill. "It got worse ever since then."

Grabbing Seamus by the back of his robes, I hauled him out of the sweaty pile of clothes with great difficulty and set him on his bed, almost feeling bad that he was subjected to a first-hand assault of the senses. Hands jabbing at my hips, I then surveyed the entire boys' dormitories.

How could one live in this mess? There were still a considerable number of school days left, which meant the house elves wouldn't be cleaning the dormitories any time soon- they only ever cleaned the common room in order to avoid getting into trouble with students by invading their privacy.

Sighing, I pushed up the sleeves of my robes, mentally coming to a decision. When you grew up being an outdoors kid with Pattie the strict House Elf and Mom the scary-looking office lady, you just got used to a lot of cleaning spells.

I whipped out my wand, glancing down at my choice of a weapon seriously. My most trusted aid was made from Alder, with dragon heartstring and it was even somewhat long to make up for my height- or lack thereof. Apparently, it was supposed to be good for defensive and nonverbal spells- though I must say, cleaning with it was an absolute _joy._

With a sort of fury, I sorted out every clothing article- blanching as I did so, mind you, before I sent all of them to be washed. I _Tergeo_ 'd the hell out of the floor, resorting to using _Scourgify_ on some especially stubborn stains- some of which consisted of melted chocolate and pumpkin juice, the sort of food you sneaked out from the Great Hall. Other stains, I had no idea where they came from- though I did recognise mud from the Quidditch Pitch. (Shame on you, Harry!)

Waving my wand, the other miscellaneous items went flying to the beds of their respective owners with the help of a simple Sorting charm, and I felt especially satisfied as they arranged themselves in neat, straight piles according to alphabetical and numerical order. I wiped the grime off their bedposts and the doorknobs, wrecked havoc on the molds that was growing in some dingy corner, and disinfected everything in sight.

Bloody hell, I even cleaned their _bathroom_ for them.

Running out of the dormitory for a second, I went to fetch some air fresheners and a bottle of perfume from my trunk before I marched back up the stairs, feeling sweaty and tired from the cleaning. I took pleasure in cleaning however, for it was refreshing to be doing magic after what felt like forever.

Dean and Seamus stared at me the whole time asI cleaned, with an amused smile crossing Dean's face and a snicker from Seamus every time I screamed and gagged at the sight of a clump of hair or a dust mote.

Feeling dignified, I cleaned off my hands before I swept my sagging ponytail to my shoulder, before I showed them my collection of mini air freshener bottles and my perfume bottle.

"There's peppermint, lemon, lavender..." I rattled on, resisting the urge to elaborate on the antiseptic and antiviral properties of certain natural oils. "And my perfume is lily-scented. I'm going to spray that in the bathroom."

I had to explain to Seamus what an air freshener was- it was after all a Muggle invention. He questioned if it would be dangerous to breath in, to which I shook my head- I had checked out Muggle London once when I was board, and perfume had been all the rage in France. I made the air fresheners myself- all you had do was buy some natural oils and mix them with water for a subtle, natural fragrance.

"Lavender, then." Seamus said innocuously, his lips curled upwards. I raised an eyebrow at that interesting choice. Turning to Dean, he simply shrugged as I brandished my bottles at him. I ended up going with lavender after all- it was a faint, floral scent with just a tinge of sweetness.

I sprayed it into the air to get rid of the stale scent and decided to just leave the bottle with them just in case they needed to spray more in the future. I then sprayed perfume in the bathroom, feeling a lot more relaxed now that the dormitory was clean.

Climbing onto Dean's bed, I peered over his shoulder to see what he was drawing. Then Seamus let out another snicker, and I shot him a scathing look.

"Aren't you sort of batty, Greenwood?" He grinned at me. "You just cleaned the entire dorm for us."

I raised an eyebrow at that, crossing my arms as I did so.

"Shush, dear Finnigan. Would you rather your face still be in that pile of sweaty somethings?"

Seamus blanched at that horrid memory and I let out a cackle, which earned me a glare from the said bloke. His expression was absolutely priceless and he took a sudden interest in admiring his reflection on the floor. Beside me, Dean had rolled over onto his back, examining his drawing in the dim light. He casually sent a glance back to where Seamus was lazing, before a peaceful smile quirked up on a corner of his lips.

"Don't complain, mate." He scolded lightheartedly. "I was getting tired of stepping on some bloke's boxers every time I had to go to the bathroom."

I shivered at that horrifying thought, before I let out a sigh, staring up at the ceiling as I hummed in thought. "I should get bloody _paid_ for this."

They laughed at that, even though I was being serious. Dean flicked a Sickle at me which I immediately flicked back at him, scowling- there was no way I was accepting money from my best mates. What I really meant was starting a business of sorts, to pass time and brush up on my homemaking skills.

I broke the silence glumly as I voiced out my echoing thoughts.

"Do you know anybody with a disgusting dormitory?" I asked hopefully.

Seamus seemed to realise that I was being perfectly serious about earning money from cleaning. He stared at me, his blue eyes blinking rapidly, before he finally cracked.

"Well, for one," he began slowly, a hint of incredulity in his tone. "Fred and George are always complaining."

.

* * *

Extra:

"Fred, there's a dead Puffskein under your bed!"

I gagged in disgust at the dead animal, before wrapping it up with bag and etching _'biohazard'_ over it with my wand.

The said redhead poked his head out of his four-poster bed, where he had his covers drawn.

"I've been wondering about that weird stench for a while," he stated casually, as if dead Puffskeins were an everyday occurrence. I flicked the bag with the Puffskein away towards the rest of the trash was.

If I thought that the second-year boy's dormitory had been in a bad state, the one Fred and George lived in claimed top prize with no competition. One would think that people would actually learn how to keep their dormitory clean as the years went by.

"You know, we don't actually have any cash to give you, Rhia." George said suddenly, poking his head out from behind his bed. I frowned in concentration, and began to scrub at a suspicious-looking stain at the edge of a bed.

"It's fine," I shrugged. "I consider you two acquaintances, you can get off free."

"No, no, that won't do, Rhia." They said in unison, waggling their eyebrows suggestively. "As prospective businessmen, we insist that we repay you somehow."

I considered that. I felt bad charging them in any way- Mom told me that the Weasley's financial situation wasn't the best, which I felt that they didn't deserve since they were a nice bunch. But if they really insisted...

"Teach me Potions in return, then," I blurted out, the subject being the first thing that came to my mind. "I don't know, give me some tips or something. That alright?"

"You _are_ aware that me and George are tied in last place in our Potions class?" Fred said, a grin forming on his face. I let out a sigh at that, shrugging.

"How very pure-minded of you, young Greenwood." George replied mock-wisely from his own bed, eyes catching mine with a smirk. I raised an eyebrow at that and ignored the implication, even though my face burned at the statement.

"You two strike me as the brilliant types frankly, not Hermione-brilliant, but... brilliant. You know?" I tried to explain, but I merely got a loud snort in reply.

"How very eloquent," Fred grinned, not missing the chance to poke fun at me. I groaned at his mock-mockery.

"Sounds decent to me," George shrugged. We shook hands on it and I beamed at them. I caught sight of something I missed in the corner of the dormitory, and levitated it to the laundry pile- a knicker? What was a knicker doing in a boy's dormitory? Tossing it to be washed with the rest of the laundry, I stuffed my wand back down my robes before I grabbed my bottles off a nearby counter.

"Peppermint or lemon?" I quickly asked, showing them the bottles of air freshener.

"Lemon." Fred and George replied in unison, and promptly turned to send each other knowing looks. I smiled at that, immediately beginning to spray it around their now sparkling dormitory.

(Lemon was, after all, the universal scent recognised by Quidditch players- it reminded us uncannily of broom polish.)

When I was done, I turned and saluted towards the redheads, depositing the bottle of air freshener on a nearby table.

"Send me my notes by owl," I spoke, yawning as I stepped out of their dormitory. "Call me anytime dead Puffskeins find their way into your beds, nice doing business with you, yada yada... I'm going to take a shower."

They sent a salute in acknowledgement, and I smiled exhaustedly, shutting the door. I then heard George suddenly exclaim loudly, however, as if he hadn't been inspecting my work the whole time while I was cleaning up their dormitory for them.

"Bloody hell! Fred, look, it's the floor!"

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* * *

Author's Note:

(Of course, Rhia's description of the boy's dormitory is a tad bit exaggerated.)

And here's the second last chapter before we head into the Prisoner of Azkaban, where more of Rhia's family will be explored! I'll probably be uploading the whole series here, for convenience's sake.

I do have a question though: How do you find Rhia as a character now? What do you like about her? Would you consider her a Mary-sue?

Do tell me what you think in the reviews!


	18. Chapter 17

Chapter Seventeen; The Long Way Home

* * *

The remaining school days were arguably the best.

It was so strange, walking down the corridor only to have seemingly random people congratulate me on getting out of the Hospital Wing. I had the second-year Hufflepuffs Hannah Abbott and Susan Bones hurry up to me in the corridors to pass me what had to be various food packages from home, and when I headed up to the library I bumped into Terry Boots, who sent me a nod of acknowledgement. With the amount of people flocking to hear what happened, even Pansy Parkinson dared not send me her usual slew of insults as her little group of Slytherin girls passed us by on the corridors.

I heard about the full version of what happened after being Petrified from Ron, who had been with Harry when they went down to the Chamber of Secrets. Lockhart turned out to be a fraud (which was hardly a surprise) and had attempted to modify Harry and Ron's memory with Ron's wand, only to have it backfire on himself. If the git never regained his memories, it was technically his own fault for attempting an unauthorised Memory Charm- but I did pity him somewhat. Afterwards, Ron spoke of how Ginny had been the one taken into the Chamber, which made me pale for a moment before I remembered that it was all over and young Ginny was resting in her dorm.

As I saw Hermione, I exchanged a knowing glance with her as I shot her a smile- normally, we lived in the same dormitory but we barely talked. When we weren't with our own group of friends, we were alike in the fact that we spent our time studying- though the difference being that she actually enjoyed learning and I didn't.

Strangely, like how it had been with Colin, I felt more closer to her for some reason- after all, the snake had gotten us at the same time. It was weird, but it was like there was this mutual understanding between all those who were attacked.

We spent the remaining days attending lessons as usual, though the Defence against the Dark Arts lessons were thankfully canceled because of Lockhart's leave of absence.

In what felt like forever, I went for a few rounds around the pitch on my broom just for the practice, which made me feel exhilarated beyond words. I felt free, in a sense. I immediately knew that the most of my summer would be spent on studying and practising Quidditch. It would be a long time before any new Chaser positions opened up, and I wouldn't dream of taking the positions of those already on the team. I might as well take the time to practice so that I might be able to secure a starting position in the future.

Other times, however, Oliver Wood caught me staring at Alicia Spinnet, who had also happened to be practising at the Pitch. He looked flabbergasted as he pulled me aside and sent me a look, before going straight to the point.

"Fancy Alicia?" he stated, one of his eyebrows raised incredulously. My eyes widened at that.

I promptly flushed and pulled my hand away, before vehemently denying that ' _No, I do not_!' and that it was nothing. Oliver didn't seem convinced however, as he left me on the Pitch, looking oddly contemplative as he did so. I stared at his retreating figure, still guiltily sneaking glances at Alicia before I grabbed my broom and bolted back to the common rooms.

.

On the last day of the term, Professor McGonagall returned me the mirror that I had created from transfiguring my copy of _Gadding with Ghouls_.

First, she praised my handiwork, explaining that she had untransfigured in order to examine it. However, she had returned it back to a mirror, 'accidentally' hinting that it would be more useful as a mirror than a book. I grinned at that sentiment, before I slipped the white-coloured and medium-sized mirror into my pocket, waving goodbye to her.

Before I made to collect my belongings I made another stop- which was Severus' office. Even though we were relatives through my mother, we had barely conversed this year, as his occasional tolerances of my terrible potion making meant he simply paid no attention to me in class. Sometimes, my potions were so bad that he had told me off in mild irritation. I had the sneaking feeling that Severus felt just the least bit insulted by my lack of talent in Potions.

Stepping by the door and peering into his office tentatively, I caught sight of him sitting at his table and silently working, his head lowered and his face emotionless. Looking up, he set down his quill and his expression didn't shift as he saw me at the doorway.

"What is it, Miss Greenwood?" He stated curtly, before he returned to grading his work like I wasn't even there.

"Just wanted to say bye before I left, sir," I replied hastily. I had always found Severus intimidating, even after all this while. "Also, Mom invites you over for dinner sometime."

He inclined his head to acknowledge what I said, before resuming to grading his work as per normal. I was not sure whether to be relieved or disappointed by the lack of any response whatsoever, but as I turned to leave, he seemed to let out a sigh.

"Do strive to stay out of trouble, Miss Greenwood."

I smiled at that. "Thank you, sir. I'll try."

.

* * *

"Greenwood, we're going to leave without you!" A familiar Irish-sounding voice called out in a slightly sing-song voice.

I sighed, rolling my eyes lightly.

"You go on first, I'll find you later," I called back. I caught sight of Seamus sending me a nod before he disappeared into the train.

Stuffing my trunk in with the rest, I had to hold my flowers in my hand. Looking around , I saw that Seamus and Dean had already boarded the Hogwarts Express to search for a compartment. Hurrying onto the train, I ducked my head in between compartments. I had a short conversation with Colin, who beamed once he saw me. Waving goodbye to both him and Ginny, I hurried away.

Ginny had certainly come a long way. Slowly, she had begun to open up- no longer was she alone all the time, she had Colin to talk to now. I was proud of her.

Peering into the other compartments, I jumped when George shoved open his compartment door and dragged me inside by the shoulders. I stood inside awkwardly, cheeks lighting up as I caught sight of Alicia Spinnet beside him, awkwardly choking out a greeting. Then I turned towards Fred, who exaggeratedly bowed before shoving a bundle of parchments toqards me.

"For you-know-what," he stated with a solemn nod.

"The only notes we'll make in this lifetime," George added, his tone equally serious. I could almost see him shaking his head from behind me.

I let out a laugh at that. Fred and George were the two people who I appreciated having around- they were unique in their own right, and not afraid to stand out. I respected that.

Some time ago, I did them a favour and had asked them to send me notes for Potions by owl, but I didn't really mind that they gave it to me now. Still blushing under Alicia's gaze, I accepted the bundle of notes with a flourish. I was glad that the Weasley twins were around to share their contagious sense of humour, for I would have almost certainly been speechless in Alicia's presence.

"Thank you." I stated, faking a gasp as I whirled around so that my back was facing the doorway. "For you two to have graced my life with such a special gift, I am beyond honoured."

It was then did I notice Oliver Wood sitting in the corner, an eyebrow quirked at the exchange. Clearly, he had never witnessed the side of me that was so very full of bullshit before. I sent him a little salute while attempting to balance my flowers in one hand.

"'Ello, Oliver," I greeted cordially, beaming at him before my gaze shifted to the others. "I'll get going, now."

The Quidditch Captain chuckled, and I noticed that his eyes had darted to the bouquet of peonies and the pot of pansies I was holding. A curious expression crossed his features and I wondered if the fact that I was holding flowers was really so surprising.

Winking, I stepped out of the compartment, waving at them through the glass panel on the door before I stepped away, cheeks flaming red. All I could think of was how bloody _pretty_ Alicia Spinnet was. Seeing her made me feel happy as I sort of fell into a stupor, oddly satisfied that I managed to make her laugh.

I was evidently too pleased to pay attention to my surroundings, as moments later I was on the floor, groaning.

"Sorry about that, I wasn't looking." I muttered automatically.

I had been the one knocked down because of my lack of height, while the other person had at most stumbled backwards. That, along with the fact that the train had just began to move. Hastily picking my flowers which had landed beside me, I climbed back to my feet.

Once I looked up to see who it was though, the smile wiped off my face and I swallowed, staring up into cold grey eyes.

"Malfoy." I broke the silence, staring at him. For weeks before what I dubbed the Incident, I had been trying to get a hold of him. I had been desperately wanting an explanation for what he was up to and why he had been acting like a git the whole year. For him to suddenly appear before me like this felt impossibly unreal.

He was looking at me with a similar expression of muted shock on his pale, pointed features. Slowly, he sent me a small nod in what I assumed to be acknowledgement. Avoiding my eyes, he pushed past me to walk on, his nose pushed into the air haughtily and his head held high. It was like I wasn't even there.

I stared after him, frozen in shock, almost feeling disappointed at myself for not seizing the chance to talk to him right there and then. Shaking my head, I then slid into the last compartment, which was the only one Dean and Seamus could be in. They did turn out to be there, for I was greeted with a familiar sight. It would have been terribly awkward if I had marched into a compartment full of strangers.

"Sorry," I said, lips curling up in a smile as I glanced at them. "Got held up."

It was then did I notice the round-faced boy seated at the corner of the compartment, and I smiled fondly at the boy. Neville had chosen to join us that day and I beamed, setting my flowers on the empty seat beside me.

Looking up to see Seamus watching me intently with a quirk to his smile, I grinned back at him before hurriedly turning towards the window, where Hogwarts was already becoming a tiny speck in the distance.

I stared at the fading castle in the distance for a while, feeling almost drunk from the waves of nostalgia that washed over. How could a year be over so quickly? It barely felt like yesterday that I touched down at the airport from France, but here I was already a year into Hogwarts. Shaking my head, I noticed that the lunch trolley witch had just stopped by.

Seamus had bought himself some Chocolate Frogs, and he cheekily made a show of tearing away at the frog and eating it cold-heartedly in front of Trevor, who let out a squeamish croak. Dean and I watched in pointed amusement as the sandy-haired wizard promptly got chocolate all over his face, with Neville hastily stowing Trevor away in his pocket to spare him the gruesome sight.

He then wiped at his face without remorse, smearing chocolate everywhere. I reached out and swiped the chocolate away with a finger, tutting at the mess Seamus had made of himself. At the very least, he hadn't gotten any on his uniform.

I reached for my wand, letting out a small chortle when I realised Dean had done exactly the same. I shot him a knowing glance and he smiled at me, looking surprisingly mischievous.

"C'mon, do the honours, Dean!" I egged on, leaning back in my seat relaxedly as I looked at the dark-haired boy expectantly. Dean calmly took out his wand, before making to point it at the Irish wizard's chocolate-coated face. Seamus' eyes widened at that.

"Shield me, Longbottom!" He yelped, pulling Neville in front of him, ignoring the boy's helpless protests.

I inched around in my seat before I let out a war cry and tackled them both to the ground. A scuffle quickly ensued.

"No, Trevor!"

"Finnigan, get your arse here right now!"

"She's right, mate, it's now or never- "

" -then let it be never!"

"Call yourself a bloody Gryffindor! "

"I don't like what you're implying, Greenwood!"

"Geroff me!"

 _"Tergeo!"_

All fell silent at that note as Seamus' face was wiped clean and shiny, all Chocolate Frog remnants gone. Cautiously climbing up from where he had ducked under the seats, Neville stared at Seamus while clutching at Trevor protectively. I exchanged glances with Dean and giggled at the look of mischief that flashed across his face for just a moment.

As Dean stowed his wand away (looking impossibly smug as he did so), I glanced over at Seamus as I smoothed down my uniform which had gotten crumpled in the scuffle. The moment my eyes met his, he slumped over the seats, letting out a soft whine.

"Mind you, I was going to _eat_ that chocolate!" He bemoaned loudly, before his eyes snapped towards me out of the blue. "I see you laughing, Greenwood!"

At that, I promptly turned away, taking a moment to wipe myself of any lingering giggly emotions. The satisfied smirk disappeared in a second and I turned towards him, mustering up my most serious expression.

"Don't worry, I'm not laughing," I began in a deadpan tone before I noticed the look of disbelief on his face. "I swear, I'm not!" I added earnestly just for the emphasis, as if I hadn't been laughing myself silly a mere seconds ago.

His blue eyes flickered to my grey ones and I allowed my lips to curl up just the slightest. In response, he rolled his eyes, though his mouth was already parted in a toothy grin.

I stuck my tongue out at him and turned away with a huff, staring out the window. My eyes flicked over to where my flowers were resting, before my gaze darted over to glance at the sight of the trio before me. Glancing back at the passing scenery outside, I took in the luscious greenery and the beauty of the great outdoors.

Then with a loud rumble, the Hogwarts Express took on a sudden burst of speed as it surged onward. At long last, I leaned back comfortably in my seat, contemplating the change in the mere passing of a year, before I couldn't help but smile.

It has certainly been a hell of a good time.

.

* * *

 _End of Part One._

* * *

Author's Note:

And that is the end of the first part of Floral and Fading! Special thanks to madwamoose and Guest for their kind reviews :)

How was it? Do tell me things that you wish to see in future installments, I'm open to your ideas ;) Thank you all for sticking around all this while!


	19. Chapter 18

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 _"They tear through each other in the mirror. This happy vacation, there's no motivation; so hold me up."_

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* * *

Chapter Eighteen; For Starters

* * *

Amanda Greenwood sat at her office table, eyes set in a frown as she regarded the various documents waiting for approval before her, eyes darting across the minuscule font with a practiced ease. She was a prim-looking woman, with not a hair out of place and her back heels polished until they gleamed. Despite her unfaltering air of professionalism, at that very moment she honestly could not wait for working hours to end. Her daughter was finally coming home from school today, and she felt sick thinking about what had happened to her.

 _Thump._

Halting in her actions, she coolly glanced across the room at the source of the sound, quickly identifying it as someone attempting to contact her via the Floo Network. That did not stop her from sliding her hand into her back pockets to hold her wand, however.

Her heels echoed across the marbled floor steadily as she approached the crackling fireplace, quickly glancing at the face of the person trying to contact her. Eyes widening in recognition, she cleared her throat and spoke, not unkindly but formally.

"I am free at the moment," she stated simply, eyeing the man, whose face swirled amidst green flames. "Would you like to talk in person?"

He nodded. All of a sudden, there was a roar of flames, and calmly she took a step back to give her guest a once-over.

"It's been a while," her visitor broke the silence, shaking soot off his shaggy clothes. "You haven't changed at all, Amanda."

A ghost of a smile appeared on Amanda's face as she wordlessly strode back to her table, where she took a seat. Behind them, the flames burned back to normal, the loud roars now reduced the soft crackling in the background.

"It has, and so have you," she agreed, before she summoned a chair to whiz across the room to the front of her desk with a wordless wave of her wand. "Make yourself at home."

The man did, relaxing on the chair but not before he let out a weary sigh. "Thank you. It does seem that there were a lot of things we need to discuss about."

Amanda examined the man before her. Aging had significantly taken a toll of him. Small streaks of grey could be seen in his hair, and with a slight pang she remembered her own days in Hogwarts and how long it had been since then. She took to internally musing all the massive changes that had taken place since then.

As primly as ever, Amanda got out a quill and a parchment before she spoke, as if making an inquiry. She knew that a simple Charm could help her take down the essential points of their discussion more effectively, but she just needed to do something to distract her from her worries regarding Rhiannon.

"So what brings you here, Remus?"

.

* * *

I stepped out of the fireplace, dragging my trunk out after me. Immediately, I dusted the soot off my robes as I stepped forward.

There was a loud 'crack' as a familiar elf Apparated into view. She made a fuss as she snapped a long finger and almost immediately, a fluffy pink feather duster zoomed into her hand as she dusted my trunk off with a manic intensity.

"Good to see you alive and well, young Mistress." She said, and sternly her green eyes scanned up and down my appearance. I smiled as she made no comment this time, unlike last year when she had told me off for my hair being the slightest bit messy.

"Nice to see you again, Pattie. When is Mom coming home?" I asked, beginning to tug my trunk up the lengthy flight of stairs.

Pattie sniffed at the informal way I addressed my mother, but replied nonetheless.

"Mistress," she said tartly, "will be home in about an hour. She is eager to see you again."

I cracked a smile at that. I must have worried Mom a lot, after all, what with getting ambushed by Basilisks and getting Petrified, which was definitely a notch up from falling down from broomsticks and messing up hexes.

"Thank you." I replied, beaming at Pattie, and I could've sworn that she smiled just a little bit. "I'll be in my room if there's anything."

With that, I pulled my trunk off the stairs as I walked past the various unused rooms. One of them was my mother's- I could never be sure, because rhey all looked identical. The sound of my trunk rolling against the polished floor set me on edge somewhat and I instinctively quickened my pace.

My room still had that old wooden sign on it and I smiled at the sight. Same old, same old.

Memories of my childhood had always been bittersweet, in a sense. It felt like only yesterday when we had Draco Malfoy over for lunch, where we had spent a good amount of time playing hide and seek in the house and tripping down the stairs together. Look at how well we get along now.

I pushed open the door so that I wouldn't start regretting my life decisions.

My room was as vast as it was tall. It felt so empty in comparison with my bed in the Hogwarts dormitories which had been cosy and decorated with posters and banners. Decorating my room would be a waste- it would just collect dust, and I didn't particularly feel like giving Pattie more work to do.

Unpacking my belongings and propping my Nimbus Two Thousand and One against the side of my study desk, I set to work on my History of Magic essay, feeling down at the thought of being stuck here alone for the rest of the summer. At least there was Pattie to keep me company, and Mom to talk to in the evenings. If I was lucky, Severus may even drop by for dinner a few times.

By the time I finished the essay with a groan and rolled up the parchment, an hour had passed. I shut my eyes, feeling somewhat stifled at the still atmosphere, when there was suddenly a rap on my door.

Knowing that was my cue to go downstairs, I immediately headed over to open the door- only to see my mother standing there in those office clothes of hers, her eyes blazing. I shifted uncertainly, smiling at her.

"Hello, Mom." I greeted. She bit her lip and swung her arms around me, her frame shaking as I hugged her back.

"I'm glad," Mom whispered, her voice hoarse as she stepped back and seemed to be examining my face. "If I'd known this would happen, I wouldn't have sent you to Hogwarts."

I shook my head.

"You saw my letter, Mom. I'm happy here, I really am." I spoke, meeting my mother's eyes as I did so. I certainly didn't want to get pulled out of school. I liked it here, and not to mention I was sick of always moving around. Mom silently examined my expression, before she slowly nodded as if she understood.

"You know I do everything to protect you, right?" Mother stated, her expression now unreadable. It was like she had picked up on the tiny amount of resentment that I harboured within me- the petty kind you couldn't help but have.

"Yes. I know that, Mom." I smiled at her. If anything, I felt like I was the one reassuring her. She patted my arm lightly, before she smiled at me, signalling her leave.

"Dinner's in two hours. Make sure you are presentable by then."

Nodding, I shut the door. Her footsteps echoed down the hall, reminding me of just how quiet it was in this house. As I took a shower, I absent-mindedly took in the echoes of water hitting the ground and was somehow reminded of the loud, boisterous Gryffindors back in school.

Later on, it turned out that Severus did accept the dinner offer after all, for he showed up that night in those billowy and bat-like robes of his. Dinner was awkward, though probably just to me, for my mother and Severus talked like how I imagined old friends did. I suppose that _technically_ they were, since they were cousins who had gone to school together. As I boredly listened in to their conversation, I watched as two different soup dishes materialised on the table before us and began to dig in. One was a rich mushroom soup, while the other reminded me of the creamy pumpkin stew in Hogwarts.

I wonder if young Severus often mixed his food around like how he mixed potions?

.

* * *

Author's Note:

And we're finally back and moving on to the next part of Floral and Fading.

What are your thoughts on this chapter? What are your predictions for this year? Fire away in the reviews!


	20. Chapter 19

Chapter Two; Guns For Hands

* * *

It had been a peaceful dream at first, accurate right down to the very last detail. It was night time, and I had stepped out of the fireplace, dusting soot off myself and my belongings. I then proceeded to move up the stairs and through the long, winding hallway towards my room.

The sign on my door was there, as always, with 'Rhiannon' scrawled messily over it. My footsteps fell silent as I grew nearer, eventually coming to a stop as I peered at the door. The moment I stood in front of my door, I reached out a hand for the doorknob- only to freeze as something thudded against it from the other side, causing the wooden door to shudder in its frame.

It shook once, twice. I could feel myself holding my breath as my eyes stared intently for any further signs of life in my room.

The old sign that hung on my door got knocked to the ground from the impact, hitting the ground with a sharp slap. Then all was still.

I then reached out for the doorknob once more, and in my head I screamed at myself not to move, much less enter that room. But as if in a trance, my hand continued moving towards the doorknob, until it was at last wrapped around the cold, shiny metal and twisting in a deliberate fashion.

Stepping inside the tall, vast room, my eyes surveyed the layout of the room, though there seemed to be nothing amiss. My books lay stacked up in alphabetical order on my table, with my quills color-coded. My bed sheets were made, but relatively untouched. There was no sign, no sign at all that anything had been here.

Letting out a sigh, I moved to take a step forward and turned around, moving to pull my trunk in after me. Had the noises all been part of my imagination? Was it just me being paranoid?

But then I froze.

On the ground, the sign that had fallen had disappeared. In its place was an all too familiar medium-sized white mirror.

Swallowing, I moved to pick it up, going against my better instincts, as I traced a finger along the side of my handiwork. A muted sense of fear befell me, knowing that the mirror was definitely _not supposed to be here._ Flipping open the mirror, it was when I stared into the reflective surface when I heard it.

(Every instinct within me screamed of looming danger.)

The unmistakable sound of scales slithering against the cold walls- right above me.

It hung from the ceiling of the tall room ominously, as if preparing to lunge at any moment. I watched on, almost in a trance as I examined the sheen of light that reflected in the scales through the mirror, which was otherwise cast in shadow. The Basilisk drew up a long hiss, baring its great fangs, and suddenly the reflection on the mirror shifted as the beast loomed closer.

All I could see were those terrible yellow eyes, large and bulbous. It was the very last thing I saw before I woke up, curled up in my covers and shivering, staring up into the ceiling that the snake had been mere moments before.

Blinking, I slid my legs over the side of the large bed and squinted in the darkness to look at the time.

 _3.08 am._

Sighing, I reluctantly crept back into my bed, noting how cold and barren it felt even with the covers pulled tightly over me.

Soon enough, I gave up on going back to sleep all together. It was impossible, not when my heart was racing from adrenaline and when I didn't dare even move a muscle, for the fear that something would get me while I was asleep. I wanted- no, needed to get out of my bed to seek out company, but I was too frozen to even move.

Shadows hung in the corner of my room, and the switch for the light was a good distance away. I did not dare venture through the dark or even reach out to grab my wand, which was sitting on my desk nearby. For the lack of a better description, I felt utterly petrified.

It was with a shaky sigh that I pulled my covers over my head and prayed that I would fall asleep soon- if not later.

.

The dream certainly didn't help with my feelings of paranoia.

The next day, the mere sight of the bathroom mirror was enough to make me freeze on the spot.

It wasn't because of my reflection- I had long grown used to waking up with bags under my crusted eyes and impossible to tame hair. The mirror had reminded me of my dream- my fear was ridiculous, that great dirty snake had long been killed. I stood there for a minute, wondering if I sh5ould get something to cover up the mirror- out of sight, out of mind, right?

 _No. That's a stupid idea._ I snapped at myself. Not only was that impractical, it would be nothing short of cowardly. And for Merlin's sake, I was a bloody Gryffindor.

No, I wouldn't hide from the root of my fears, I would give it time and I would be better- eventually.

When I was done with freshening up, I stepped out of the bathroom and locked it from the outside- just to be safe, so that nothing could come barreling out of it towards me. Marching over to my study desk, I stifled a yawn before I grabbed my wand, slipping it in my pocket before I hurried down for breakfast.

Breakfast was always my favourite meal of the day, and that would always be something that never changed. The smell of freshly made pancakes wafted through the air and I felt impossible hungry as I went down.

Mother was already there, allowing Pattie to serve her a cup of tea as she busied herself with her breakfast. I muttered my greetings as I drew up and chair and sat next to hair, slightly apprehensive of the strange look she sent me.

I frowned at her. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

Mom answered the question, coupled with a delicate sip of tea.

"Well," she stated, sending me a glance. "It's six in the morning, Rhiannon. "

I nearly choked on the pancake that I had seized from the table before I grabbed a cup of coffee and chugged it down. Of _course_ Mom would have the opinion that all teenagers liked sleeping in.

"I always wake up at six," I shrugged, hoping that she wouldn't delve too much into it. I didn't want to tell her about my bad dreams- I couldn't fathom why, but I just didn't want her to think that there was something wrong with me- not after I worried her so much last term.

I could feel Mom's gaze carefully focused on me from the corner of her eye, though thankfully, her attention was diverted away as an owl swooped in, dropping a copy of the _Daily Prophet_ on the table and Quina, the family owl, came swooping in right after, dropping a small pile of letters on the table.

Quina was a black screech owl, with beautiful wide eyes and dark feathers. From our incessant pampering, she had grown to really live up to the pun which was her name. It was evident in the way she perched on the back of a chair and puffed out her chest feathers, eyeing me expectantly.

(Quina. _Queen-a,_ get it?)

I offered her a piece of pancake which she devoured with gusto. Nipping my finger affectionately, she took off in a burst of feathers to her usual perch on the balcony.

Seizing the pile of letters, I sorted through the, skimming through the small pile of letters. I perked up at the sight of Dean's familiar neat handwriting, immediately tucking it in my pocket for later perusal. I frowned at the last letter though, which had a Hogwarts seal on it.

 _Amanda Greenwood_ was written in fancy, looping handwriting as I handed it over to Mother, wondering why on earth she would receive a letter from Hogwarts, or presumably one of the professors.

"Who is it from?" I asked, not attempting to hide my curiosity as I watched her skim the contents of the letter.

She promptly folded the letter and slid it back in the envelope, before stating. "A new professor from Hogwarts."

Her brusque manner made me stiffen. _Merlin, someone's certainly testy today. Is she alright?_

After finishing her tea, Mom quickly washed up, smoothed her work clothes, and disappeared into mid-air with a turn of her heels. I leaned back into the chair and stared up at the ceiling, feeling bored.

It got lonely sometimes, a tiny person like me in this gigantic house.

.

Every other day were spent waiting for my dreams to get better. They seemed to have only gotten worse, if anything. I found myself staring up into my covers in the late of the night, afraid to sleep.

One night I finally cracked. I couldn't keep doing this- I couldn't just keep waking up to keep seeing those terrible yellow eyes in everything once I woke up.

I needed to be anywhere but this room.

Pushing myself from the side of the bed, my feet met the cool floor as I stumbled over to my desk, rummaging in the drawers with my hands shaking impossibly. The longer I stood there searching for any lamp, or flashlight, or anything at all, the more I felt like something was creeping up on me in the dark. My breathing hitched and determinedly I stumbled blindly back to where my bed was and grabbed my wand from underneath the pillow.

"Lumos," I whispered, and immediately and faint glow emanated from the wand tip. Thank goodness there were Loopholes to the Trace- I could perform magic as long as Mom was around and in the vicinity.

Gripping onto my wand like it was my lifeline, I made a mad dash for the door, fumbling with the lock before I yanked it open and ran out, shutting it behind me.

 _Where's Mom's room again?_

Stumbling along the corridors, I found myself losing count of the faceless doors, and instead ended up trying to get into one of the doors, convinced that there was something lurking in the darkness. Throwing caution to the wind, I unlocked the door with my wand, shutting the door behind me and reaching out to flick on the lights.

The room I was in was evidently some sort of store room. Unlike my room, there was a fine layer of dust on the various belongings that was in the room. Stacks of old schoolbooks decorated the shelves, along with what looked to be random mementoes. I wandered over to a shelf which had old photographs neatly framed up and resting on them.

Curiosity made me step forward as I wiped the dust from the photo frames and examined the photo I found.

I recognised my Mom immediately in what had to be her teenage years. She had been undeniably a beautiful girl, and in my opinion she could give a lot of people a run for their money.

Her black hair curled around her face neatly, and her brown eyes seemed to glimmer, as if she was mentally taunting someone to get on her bad side. Immediately, I recognised the blue tie with a Hogwarts crest which was tied up on her neck and a glimmering Prefects badge pinned on her uniform.

She looked like a perfect student, one I could only hope to be. But admittedly, what really caught my attention was the boy beside her.

I watched as he sheepishly ran his hand through his hair awkwardly as a green tie hung loosely around his neck. There was an awkward distance between, though suddenly the boy seemed to have gathered the courage to grab at her hand. It seemed like she was staring off at something in the distance, however, as she didn't notice until she turned to face him, a smile plastered on her face.

Similarly, the other photos were of the two of them holding hands and the like. In a closeup photo, I stared at the man's features. He had a squarish face and grey eyes- the same shade as my own, I realised, which lit up when he smiled.

The realisation struck me that this wasn't just any childhood sweetheart- this man was my father.

My heart thudded loudly as I duplicated the photo with shaking hands, before slipping the copied photo in my pocket. This was a huge revelation to me- finally, I get a glimpse of who my father is and what he looked like. A sort of giddy happiness fell over me as I continued to examine the rest of the pictures.

It was then did another photograph catch my eye- though this one was taken with a girl from Gryffindor who I presumed to be a close friend of my mother's. The girl was undoubtedly pretty, with long chocolate brown hair, bright eyes. Dimples framed a charming smile as the girl threw an arm around my mother, who let out a laugh and returned the hug. I couldn't help but chuckle at the adorable sight, before making to duplicate that photo as well.

 _I wonder who's the girl?_

It was only a while later did I slip out of the room and lock it behind me, fitting my newfound trophies snugly in my pocket. After what seemed like forever, I tediously managed to locate my mother's room before I curled up on the side of her bed, bunching up some of her covers and hugging it close to my chest.

.

I woke up to find that I was now sleeping in the middle of my mother's large bed, with the covers pulled over me and pillows propping my back. I couldn't help but smile before I climbed out of bed and clambered downstairs, feeling remarkably more at peace.

A crinkle from my pocket reminded me of my newest discoveries, and the smile on my face widened immediately.


	21. Chapter 20

Chapter Three; Curiosity Killed The ( )

* * *

Joining my mother in my room in her room each night quickly became a ritual. I would join her at breakfast and Mom's letters from the unknown Hogwarts Professor continued on, though I received no clue on who it was. One day, however, I thought of the picture I had copied from the storeroom.

"Mom? Dad's an Auror, right?" I asked, nibbling on my waffle.

I might've been imagining it, but the mere mention of my father seemed to set her on edge. It wasn't that she had given away anything with her expression, it was more like the complete lack of reaction that seemed strange. Unless my mother secretly hated my father, or something, what exactly warranted that sort of reaction- that one that told me to stop prying?

The atmosphere took a sudden plunge and I continued nibbling on my waffle, hoping to brush off the question as simply a bout of random curiosity.

Frankly, it was reactions like these which discouraged me from asking her questions about my father, though this was undoubtedly the first time I brought up my father in what had to be a few years.

"Yes, he is."

She said almost automatically, slicing into her eggs silently and I frowned. For a moment, it seemed like she wanted to tell me something, but she ended up not saying a further word.

Once again, I was reminded of my childhood ambition- to become an Auror, and meet my father one day. Stories that Mother had told me in my childhood were fresh in my mind- I retold them to myself everyday, trying to imagine meeting him in person. He was undoubtedly a great man, and I found that he had quickly become my source of motivation.

There was so much I wanted to know about him, so many things I did not know. Had he been a fan of Quidditch? Was he still an Auror? What made him want to be an Auror? Was it really so bad that I wanted to meet my birth father?

Mother was examining my expression intently. Her brown eyes were warm, but something within looked clouded. Secretive.

"Are you thinking of becoming an Auror, dear?"

I nodded, the eagerness barely concealed by my expression.

My mother let out a sigh in resignation, seemingly persuaded by my hopeful expression.

"The Academy only accepts the best of the best. Just a word of advice: If you manage to secure external accomplishments outside of your studies, you are likely to secure yourself a place in the Academy."

Her words seemed to have a hidden tease now, a hidden challenge. It left my mind reeling and my thoughts running haphazardly from the revelation. Accomplishments _outside_ school?

How would that even work?

"What kind?" I asked, certain that I wouldn't like the answer.

A small smile appeared on my mother's expression as she fiddled with the toast in her hand. After what felt like forever, she finally saw fit to curb my suspense, beaming at me, though the look in her eyes confused me greatly.

"Say, if you manage to accomplish something extremely difficult, of course." My mother responded like the answer was the most obvious in the world and I resisted a powerful urge to roll my eyes. It had to be the soddingly cryptic Ravenclaw in her, I swear. Of course that said Ravenclaw spirit chose now to surface, of all times.

With that, I waved defeatedly as she Disapparated off to work with a mysterious curl to her lips.

"Where on earth am I supposed to find books on how to become an Auror?" I groaned in frustration. Pattie, who was cleaning the table, sent me a look which clearly suggested that I was stupid.

"In case you have forgotten, Young Mistress, we has ourselves a personal library." Pattie stated matter-of-factly, and I found myself being led away to face a blank wall.

I stared at it, not knowing what to think. But then Pattie pressed one of the wooden panels on the wall, and simultaneously the wooden panels morphed and folded outwards to form a doorway. There was a small ' _click!',_ and I found that my eyes were staring at the hollow of a room.

Taking a cautious step forward, I found that I was in a small, cosy space, with shelves stacked to the ceiling with books. A dim lantern swayed in the middle of the room, casting dull yellow light over the room.

My eyes lit up at the sight of what seemed like a personal library. Stepping inside after me, Pattie showed me how to seal the wall once I was inside.

Thanking Pattie, I eagerly stepped forward and began picking out and pouring over books, feeling right at home. After all, there was nothing a nerd like me loved doing more than losing my head in within sheets of paper.

.

* * *

My internal turmoil all started when Quina flew in a shower of fancy black feathers and dropped and envelope in my lap.

This letter was completely unexpected, considering that I knew Seamus barely wrote (because he was a lazy arse) along with the fact that I have yet to reply to the letter I got from Dean yesterday. Considering the fact that I didn't have a lot of friends, letters were considerably rare for me.

(No, playing Quidditch certainly did not make you popular.)

I stared down at the pretty yet foreign handwriting, before carefully tearing open the envelope to seize the piece of parchment.

.

 _Dear Rhia,_

 _I just wanted to ask if Oliver really settled things properly with you when he talked to you. He refuses to tell me how it went and I'm pretty annoyed by that._

 _So how did it go? He better have been civil towards you, or the Chasers and I will give him hell._

 _Love,_

 _Alicia._

 _P.S. What electives are you taking next year? Angelina has some notes and she says that you can use them_

 _._

I froze upon finishing that, almost dying inside once I saw that it was bloody _Alicia Spinnet_ who sent me that letter. Alicia Spinnet, the wide-eyed, dark-haired and bubbly Chaser who happened to be so bloody amazing in every single way.

Not to mention, I nearly died on the inside when I realised that she had signed off with 'love'. My heart raced for a good five minutes before I even began to calm down and scream at myself for overreacting.

Currently, my loss for words didn't help the state I was in. How should I reply? What if I came across as overly-friendly or too stuff? It was an absolute nightmare trying to figure out what to say.

Okay.

... okay.

Get your shit together.

In the end I settled for a polite and friendly tone- which worked well, because I was pretty touched that the others were worrying about me. Not to mention that Alicia was older than me, and it would be rude if I addressed her too casually.

.

 _Dear Alicia,_

 _Thanks for your concern. Don't worry, Oliver was a perfect gentlemen and I didn't expect that he would clear things up and apologise. I have you to thank for that. As for my electives, I signed up to take Muggle Studies, Ancient Runes, Care of Magical Creatures and Divination._

 _Send my regards to Angelina for me!_

 _Regards,_

 _Rhia._

.

Once Quina flew off with the letter (after I fed her some of my waffle), I slumped back in my seat and slowly let out a sigh, my face still feeling annoyingly warm.

(Thank Merlin that Mom had not been around to see that embarrassing display. I admitted that I looked up to see if Quina had returned far too many times.)

.

* * *

Author's Note:

Here's a more light-hearted filler chapter in continuation from last chapter, where Rhia finally sees what her father looks like. What could Amanda be so secretive about, however?

... of course, along with your obligatory freak-out about crushes. I'm honestly really happy that a lot of you are supportive of Rhia and I hope her crush on Alicia didn't come out of the blue, or something.

I am curious to know what you guys are expecting (in terms of Rhia's family, development, romance, etc...) so review away!


	22. Chapter 21

Chapter Four; The Turning Point

* * *

When I did eventually get a reply from the Chaser, I was slightly stunned at her passionate (and rather hate-filled) reply.

'Divination is a no-go, Rhia!' Alicia had admonished severely and I could almost picture her just shaking her head and screeching. 'You really chose _four_ electives? I recommend you drop Divination, it's really a waste of time.'

Gaping at the parchment in my hands, I wondered what was with the animosity towards Divination.

'How so?' I scribbled back in a letter. Was Divination really so terrible? The prospect of being able to predict the future sounded faintly interesting. Then again, it was hardly a requirement for being an Auror, or any other occupation, anyway. Maybe I should drop it if it was really such a waste of time, though I decided that I should consult someone else for the matter.

Angelina? No, she was in the same classes as Alicia, and would probably be biased. Katie? She took Arithmancy and not Divination- or maybe she had, but she dropped the subject.

It was then did my mouth fall as I thought of Oliver, the Quidditch Captain. I heard that he took Divination as well- heck, I even heard that he was pretty keen on it. Mentally snickering at the image of him attempting desperately to predict the outcome of Quidditch matches, I silently thought that asking him would not be a bad choice at all- he was certainly nice enough to spare me some advice.

Scribbling my enquiries in a letter immediately, I sent Quina off with both letters, before sinking into my chair and sighing. Mom's words about me needing to accomplish something impressive and newsworthy so that I may add it on to my resume for the Academy was ringing within my head persistently and a groan escaped me at the frustration of the lack of answers that came to me.

But a sudden inspiration suddenly hit me as I immediately shoved off the chair and scrambled towards the wall, punching the wooden panel and bolting into the room that opened up to me.

Why hadn't I thought of this earlier? It was foolish of me to not have remembered that I had an entire library at my disposal. After an hour or two of cursing and shuffling through dust-ridden books, I had found my answer and I immediately set to writing another letter. Double checking the letter and making sure that my handwriting was legible and neat, I then pulled a red seal over the envelope, knowing that all I could do now was wait for Quina to come back, feeling a familiar rush of excitement within me.

This would change _everything_.

.

"Those sure are lovely flowers, Rhiannon."

My mother commented, looking a tad bit amused. She was pointedly turned towards the corner of the living room, where I had propped the bouquet of peonies and pot of pansies, having enchanted them in school to ensure that they would not die.

Face burning, I shifted around uncomfortably at her implication. As cliche as it sounded, it wasn't as if I came home drowning in roses, Singing Valentines and limited edition Chocolate Frog hearts.

"No, Mom." I firmly interjected, shaking my head. "They're from friends. Y'know, I got them from when that snake got me."

With that said, I _still_ had no idea who had gotten me those flowers. All I knew was that Seamus had kept the flowers for me and had attempted to sneak into the girl's dormitory with disastrous consequences. Snickering at the fond memory, I looked up to see my mother eyeing me with a look of disbelief. Exasperatedly, I threw my hands up in defeat.

"I know you got confessions and presents everyday, Mom," I deadpanned. "But I've never gotten asked out."

What she was implying was fairly frustrating when nobody, be it guy or girl, had any sort of interest in me. I mean, with fit girls like Parvati, Lavender and (cough) Alicia, cute girls like Hermione and Ginny, who would notice me? Even Pansy Parkinson had to be more popular in the whole romance business than me- it was embarrassing to admit, but Pansy the Pug was actually cute-looking. On the other hand, there wasn't much that was noteworthy or special about me- I was just Rhia, your somewhat pudgy and short Quidditch reserve who liked to think that she had common sense. At that depressing thought, a wave of resignation washed over me as I groggily sank towards the table with a sigh.

Mother seemed remotely disappointed at my apparent nonchalance towards the subject, though I was relieved beyond words when she changed the subject and started asking me about school.

It wasn't long since she stepped away in those black heels of hers and disappeared with a word of farewell and a graceful twirl. Letting out a breath I didn't know I was holding in, I reached out towards the heavenly goodness which was breakfast food, when suddenly-

\- Bright, acid green flames were roaring in the fireplace and my eyes flew open in horror. Who could have Flooed here so early in the morning? The thought of an intruder terrified me, and almost immediately my hand plunged into the front of my pyjamas where my wand was located.

Ducking underneath the table, I heard a 'crack!' somewhere upstairs which indicated that Pattie had Disapparated somewhere at that very instant.

 _Please still be here and not outside, Pattie,_ my eyes squeezed shut as a wave of anxiety washed over. Taking a deep breath, I peered up tentatively as my grey eyes roamed the fireplace with ill-disguised fear.

By now, the tiny billow of soot had begun to clear, meaning that I would at least be able to see the intruder. Remaining impossibly quiet, I now squinted at the direction of the fireplace. My grip on my wand tightened- only to slacken as I caught sight of unmistakeable sandy-coloured hair.

"Finnigan?" My voice sounded hoarse and _very_ surprised. "What are you doing here?"

In stunned silence, I met his eyes, only to falter slightly as he turned away immediately as if there was something he didn't at want me to see. At the sight of a hastily-stuffed bag in his arms and the tenseness of his shoulders, I fell quiet.

It was strange, the silence between us- it was not the deviating awkwardness and playfulness we were so accustomed to. Something was wrong. Something had definitely happened to him.

... who did this to him?

Stunned, it hardly sank in when the Irish wizard finally spoke minutes later, sounding so worn-out that it made my insides twist and ache.

"Sorry." He mumbled, still refusing to meet my eyes. "I'm needing some place to stay. I was going to go to Dean's, see, but he's out of the country. I'll be here only a few days, 'promise."

I somehow managed to formulate a reply. Whether my mother approved of this or not, Seamus needed help and I wasn't going to just leave him.

Stepping forward, I reached out to take his bag for him when my eyes met his and I froze at what I saw.

What was one even supposed to do in these kinds of situations?

A sense of helplessness befell me. I awkwardly shifted around on the soles of my feet, feeling a familiar ache inside as I watched Seamus, the sloppy, annoying but strong Gryffindor hastily wipe away the beginnings of tears from his eyes. It dawned on me then- the fact that I had known him for nearly a year and yet hardly knew anything about him, despite proclaiming that he was one of my best mates. I didn't know how to comfort him, and that shameful knowledge came as a rude awakening to me.

Hesitantly, I reached up for him, fingers brushing away strands of hair from his face lightly before I pulled him in for a hug. He stiffened, but the tension within his shoulders eased quickly as we stood in silence. I pulled away some time later, averting my eyes somewhat sheepishly as I wondered if that had been the wrong thing to do.

"Finnigan," I broke the silence softly after a while. Clumsily taking his bag, my fingers tightened around his sleeve as I gestured towards the stares, sending him what I hoped was a reassuring smile. "Come on, let's get you to your room."

.

* * *

Author's Note:

Thoughts?


	23. Chapter 22

Chapter Five; Mood-lifters

* * *

We never did bring up what I saw that day Seamus stumbled into the Manor by Floo.

Other than the fact that I could tell that she was resisting the urge the straighten out Seamus' appearance for him, Mom had taken the news rather well. She even sent me a pointed look that clearly said 'You better not have any funny business going on!', it promptly inspired me to flush a dark red and protest vehemently at the fact that she thought I would ever be doing something like that- and with Seamus, of all people.

On the other hand, I was secretly overjoyed to see him. After all, it was the first time I have ever had one of my best mates here with me in this place. Being an only child was lonely at times- at least I wouldn't be bored out of my mind now.

Seamus seemed to return back to normal after a few days. Which of course was good, in my opinion, but I couldn't help but wonder about what had happened to him. It still made me uneasy when I thought of what could have pushed Seamus past his breaking point like that. I had my suspicions, of course, but I didn't dare to bring it up- I believed that he would tell me on his own when the time was right.

Currently, it was nine in the morning. There was a stillness in the air as I sat at the dining table, writing notes on myself on Potions as I referred to those given to me by Fred and George. I was almost surprised that they didn't seem to have any joke spells enchanted onto them, though I guess this was what Fred and George considered fair payment in exchange for having a clean dormitory again.

Mom had left for work approximately two hours ago, and Pattie was off running errands. I stared glumly at my notes, staring at what I was trying to decipher and feeling burned-out.

It was only five minutes later that the silence was quickly broken by Seamus making his way down the stairs. His sandy hair stood up at various angles and I barely stifled a giggle at his sleepy fresh-out-of-bed demeanour.

"Wuzzferbreakfast?" He yawned, rubbing at his eyes as he slipped into the seat next to mine. Automatically, I stowed my quill back into the ink pot as I got up and headed towards the kitchen, carefully balancing a plate of food over to the table.

"Toast and scrambled eggs," I said, tucking a napkin over his lap as I handed him his cutlery. "There's honey for the toast if you want."

Seamus scrunched up his nose at that. He didn't like honey all that much, which was something I could never understand. Rolling my eyes, I merely shrugged.

"I could melt some Chocolate Frogs for you if you want," I offered instead, already making my way back to the kitchen.

Watching as his eyes lit up, I laughed and headed over to the kitchen, already putting a pot of water on the stove to boil. When it boiled, I put in a glass bowl, watching in morbid fascination at the squirming Chocolate Frogs that were quickly growing disfigured. Once they lost their form completely, I poured the resulting chocolate sauce into a small jar and brought it outside.

"Here."

Setting the jar on the table, I slid back down beside him and watched on as he dipped his toast in chocolate with vigour.

"You didn't have to," he said, clumsily spreading the sauce around with his spoon before heartily digging in- his eyes lit up the way they always did when confronted with food. It was a cute sight, and in response I shrugged it off.

"It's fine," I reassured him, propping my head on the table with my hands. "I wanted to."

He beamed at me toothily.

"Thanks, Greenwood." Seamus grinned, now cutting into his eggs. I smiled at the sight, feeling glad that I managed to lift his spirits, if only by a little. A sort of silence fell between us, more comfortable than the usual awkward atmosphere between us. Continuing to study the notes given to me by Fred and George, I could've sworn I saw him continuously throwing glances at the pink pansies and purple peonies that sat in the corner of the room.

"You've been staring at that all week," Seamus noted. Lightly I scowled, though not before I let out a sign and set down my quill.

"Yeah." I admitted reluctantly. "I overestimated my ability to understand Fred and George."

"Let me take a look," he said, reaching over and promptly tugging the notes out of my hands. His eyebrows scrunched up in concentration as he studied the parchment.

"They're talking about Golpalott's First Law," he stated as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"I sort of figured that out," I waved. "I just don't understand the law itself."

Seamus had the gall the laugh at me. "You understand the general rule of Transfiguration but you don't get Golpalott's law?"

My face flushed slightly at that comment. The mind worked in complex ways, after all. Somethings were just easier for some people than others. Potions was just not the subject for me.

In retaliation to his earlier comment, I raised a hand to flick him lightly in his arm.

Seamus's ears turned pink.

"Come on," he said, pulling my quill towards him. "I think I get it."

I couldn't help but giggle. Seamus, who was one of the most careless people I knew was fairly proficient in Potions which required meticulous theoretical and practical skills, if you didn't count his occasional explosions. On the other hand, I considered myself a detail-oriented clean freak but Potions was my weak subject. It was ironic, but I very much appreciated life's sense of humour- it made people all the more interesting.

"Sure thing," I shifted aside and beamed at him appreciatively. "Thanks, mate."

"It's nothing- I've been wanting to pay you back for your help anyway." Seamus stated with a lazy shrug. He had a slight change of demeanour as he scrutinised the notes I got from Gred and Forge, before moving to jab the end of the quill at Point Number One.

"See, the way Golpalott's First Law works is through achieving a balance 'tween the products and by-products ... Wait, what you have here is wrong, Greenwood, look here..."

.

* * *

Admittedly, Seamus' presence helped me in more than one way. While I would have definitely spent an insanely unhealthy amount of time burying myself in books, it seemed that having him there was the reminder that I didn't exist to be a studying machine. He dragged me out of the manor often just to get me to play Quidditch with him once he discovered the storage shed full of old brooms.

Just to spite him, I playfully declined letting him give my Nimbus Two Thousand a go.

"Come on, Greenwood," he protested, though I could've sworn I'd seen the corner of his lips creeping upwards.

I smiled.

"Next time," it sounded more like a promise than I had intended. I caught his eye and somehow we burst out laughing as we argued over old Cleansweeps and exchanged witticisms on that tiny grass field next to my home. It reminded me achingly of Draco Malfoy and the times I spent playing Quidditch with him all those years.

"Y'know for being pureblood and all, your Mam's pretty lax, Greenwood."

My thoughts were interrupted when the said sandy-haired boy randomly blurted out that comment as if he had been harboring that thought for quite some time now.

"What do you mean?" I asked, sending him a confused glance. After all, there were many ways one could interpret that statement.

"Your Mam doesn't seem to be minding that I'm half-and-half," he admitted. I fell quiet at that, before I attempted to remember why my family was the way it was

"Mom used to believe in pureblood supremacy, too. Our family is really old, and her parents were strict on her. She didn't question her family beliefs until she got to Hogwarts. I guess she changed because of being in Ravenclaw, y'know, what with how they're supposed to question everything..."

Even as I said that out loud, as I mentioned the reason why my Mom had changed I suddenly got the overwhelming hunch that there was much more to it than it seemed. The fact that she changed just because she got into Ravenclaw seemed pretty ridiculous. It couldn't have been that simple, right? After all, I had to have some ancestors who were sorted in places other than Slytherin, but they believed in pure-blood supremacy nonetheless.

Mom had always shrugged off the question of why the way the two of us worked was different than the other purebloods, or more significantly, the Malfoys, who were always around as I grew up. She always replied with "We changed for the better," or "We used to be like them." Any further prying was ofte gently coaxed away, with a simple "I'll tell you some day, sweetie."

I distinctly remember growing frustrated for a while. Her words had had the opposite effect on me; for a while I persistently hounded her for answers. But I never did get any, and so I gave up on finding out the truth.

It was funny, being someone always in pursuit of knowledge and yet always being kept in the dark.

However, it was undeniable that we were different from the Malfoys or our ancestors, and there were no words I had to describe how grateful I am for that.

Glancing up, it was evident that Seamus was contemplating something yet again. I stuck my tongue out at him to tell him that no, I wouldn't tell him any more than that. Not that I actually had an inkling about what went down in my family.

The sandy-haired boy scowled, looking more ruffled than usual. It wasn't just his usual scruffy appearance creating the illusion. I could still remember seeing him at my fireplace as a tired wreck. Maybe he would tell me what happened someday- I didn't like seeing him down.

Plopping down and rolling around on the grass, I glumly stared up at the sky. It was a fine day, with blue skies and fluffy clouds and- was that Quina?

The black screech owl was soaring towards us, which confused me as she was usually adamant about delivering letters on time- which was breakfast time in her books. But instead of flying over to me, she soared over to where Seamus sat before dropping a cream-coloured envelope into his lap, staring at him expectantly for treats. Hastily, I tossed her some owl treats which she begrudgingly accepted before she perched atop Seamus' arm.

"Who is it from?" I asked, already clambering over. Seamus ripped the envelope open with little grace as he stared. Vaguely I recognised the neat and pretty-looking handwriting- there was even a small doodle next to his name.

"Dean," Seamus breathed, blue eyes almost glimmering. "He says that he's back home now, and that I can come over if I want to."

My mouth fell open at that. Of course, Seamus could leave whenever he wanted to, but I felt just the least bit let down that he was leaving so soon. I hadn't had such a good time in this house for ages, and since Seamus came the nightmares mostly went away.

I quickly swatted away the selfish sentiment, but it must have showed in my expression, because Seamus' mouth fell open in an 'o' as he surveyed my deflated expression.

"Why, you falling in love with me or something, Greenwood?" he drawled playfully, blue eyes glimmering. I pointedly shot him an unimpressed look, before rolling my eyes as I tossed back my dark hair.

"No." I replied brusquely, kicking back to lie in the grass. "Go whenever you need too, I don't mind."

Seamus was grinning toothily at me for some reason. Suddenly, he darted back to the house, Quina still on his shoulder and I stared after him, wondering ' _what in the world just happened_ But minutes later he came running back out, sandy hair a mess and Quina now a black speck disappearing in the distance.

"What?" He said, looking at my expression. "Just sending Dean my response, see."

I scowled at his lopsided grin, having no idea at all what to make of his ambiguous intentions. The answer came a few days later however, when there was a commotion that came uncannily in the form of yet another intruder in the fireplace.

I stood, staring on in stunned silence as I regarded the new arrival. Slowly, I turned to Seamus, shaking my head in exasperation.

(Though truth to be told? I was absolutely _thrilled_.)

"Finnigan," my attempt at a scolding tone came out more like a chortle. "As much as we love Dean, you can't just go around inviting other people to my house."

He sent me a wink and I sighed, instead turning towards the tall and dark-haired boy who stood sheepishly by the fireplace, his features speckled with soot.

"Sorry, Rhia," Dean placated amiably as he tossed his arms over me in a quick hug. "We'll be gone in a couple of days. Seamus here thought you'd like a surprise."

I smiled dryly at the sight of my two adorable friends seemingly taking in my lackluster response. After a few moments of silence, a sigh escaped from my lips.

"I feel like that was sorta anticlimatic. Should I reenact, maybe?" I asked, and without waiting for an answer I launched into what was an overly-exaggerated and tearful reunion. Dean promptly sent an exaggerated look my way as he was smothered in hugs and fake tears. Seamus stared on in awe, shaking his head and keeping from breaking out in laughter.

"Sorry, mate," he said, running his hand through his sandy hair in what I presumed to be amazement. "Not only is this chick crazy, she's bad at acting."

Dean nervously chuckled in reply as I pretended to pout with my face over his shoulder. "I am deeply offended by that, Finnigan."

At that, Seamus kicked back into a chair.

"Good. 'Cause you are," he said, an irritating toothy grin splitting across his face. "Crazy, that is."

I released Dean from the clutches of my arms and stepped towards the sandy-haired boy in question, hands tucked at the small of my back innocuously.

"Well, it's not like you're currently living in the house of the said crazy chick or anything, right?"

Seamus grinned down at me, not relenting one bit. He tapped his chin as if he was deep in thought. The action was slow, deliberate and mocking.

"Well, looks like we're leaving, then," was his light-hearted and snide reply. I huffed at that, turning away from him with my arms crossed across my chest.

"You win this time, Finnigan."

"Don't I always?" He quipped back cheekily, only for a pillow to come planting into his face. I dusted off my hands and grinned, before cheerily proceeding to drag Dean to his room with a newfound vigour. Less than five steps later, a pillow flew straight into the side of my head and fell sadly back onto the floor.

Blowing a strand of dark hair out of my face, I tugged my hair tie off and slung it around my wrist as if preparing for a grand showdown. Behind me, Dean quickly threw down his things and darted behind the nearest armrest.

"You know what this means?"

My dark eyes locked with Seamus' blue ones. My hand felt around and clawed onto a pillow, before my lips parted in a bared hiss. _"_ War. Sorry mate, but you're going _down_."

.

* * *

 **A/N:**

 **Dean's back! Also some Deamus/Rhia bonding, and minor family backstory if you squint.**

 **I have no idea if there's still anyone reading this at this point, but if you are it would be great if you left me a review telling me what you think about this chapter, this story, anything in general! I really appreciate any form of feedback I get from readers:')**

 **Thanks for reading! I have a feeling that a lot of you would like the next chapter so I'll see you again soon - C**


	24. Chapter 23

Chapter Six; Reunions

After Mom got over the initial stages of her exasperation, I felt notably better about myself. Deamus, as I fondly called them, would be staying with me for a week. Truth to be told, I was apprehensive to being alone after the week was over, but seeing them was enough for me.

Currently, the three of us had gone on to Diagon Alley and were currently admiring the array of brooms at _Quality Quidditch Supplies._

I didn't press my face into the glass in the same undignified manner that Seamus and Dean did (though I was sorely tempted to), but I did ogle the gleaming Firebolt on display. Boy, was it a glorious sight to behold. The Quidditch lover within me squealed with wild enthusiasm as I imagined actually flying on such a marvelous creation, the craftmanship was just amazing!

Gosh, how I wanted a broom that was _not_ bestowed upon me by Draco Malfoy. Unfortunately (or not), my Nimbus Two Thousand still worked really well, and buying a new broom would be far too impractical (not to mention incredibly expensive). My family may be wealthy, but with that said, the money was not even mine to splurge on in the first place.

As mentioned, Seamus was admiring the Firebolt (though with much more fervent admiration than Dean), when he seemed to catch sight of something from the corner of his eye. He snapped back immediately as if shocked, his hands scrambling to smoothen his messy sandy-blonde hair and a hand tugging the front of his shirt downwards, almost nervously. Blue eyes began to dart between the Firebolt on display and towards someone in the distance.

I followed his line of sight, only to barely resist the urge the roll my eyes and laugh out loud- but doing that was pretty mean, so my mouth remained sewed shut.

Why, you ask?

A few feet away, Lavender Brown was currently walking in our direction. She was undeniably a pretty girl, with delicate brown curls tickling the sides of her heart-shaped face. Not to mention, she had the loveliest brown eyes, a creamy-looking complexion, and a dainty-sounding voice.

I played with my fingers in attempt to hide my mild distaste and discomfort. Lavender lived in the same dormitory with me and all, but we had barely talked in the last year. For one, I certainly did not need to know the shenanigans that went on in the Prefect Bathrooms in the middle of the night; and secondly, though I felt bad to admit it, I just didn't feel particularly enthused when talking to her. When she eventually noticed my lack of enthusiasm (I really did try to seem interested), she seemed somewhat disappointed, though it wasn't long before she was once again setting out to locate her best friend, Parvati Patil.

We had an awkward first meeting, undoubtedly, but I was interested in seeing how _this_ particular meeting was going to turn out.

Blinking, I stared on as Seamus suddenly stepped forward, hand resting on his neck as he sent Lavender a toothy grin.

"Oi, Lavender! Sure a coincidence, isn't it?"

The said girl stepped forward, fluttering her makeup-dusted eyelids as she stepped forward similarly, letting out a soft giggle. The duo then stood silently, as if lost in the other's eyes.

This public display of pining made me immensely uncomfortable as I turned away as if on reflex; the sight of Dean quietly gagging somewhere on my right made me glad to see that I wasn't the only one feeling awkward. Promptly, the dark-haired boy let out a small cough, taking a step forward to stand beside me and effectively disrupting the two from their reverie. It dawned on me moments later that he must have sensed my discomfort, as well.

( _'Dean Thomas, you are a bloody_ _angel_ )

Seamus' hand sheepishly went up to the back of his neck. I looked away.

"Well," he stated, looking uncharacteristically bashful. "It's been a great time seeing you, Lavender."

As the brown-haired girl left, I sent Seamus my best raised-eyebrow look.

"What?" He demanded, rounding up on Dean and I, a pink tint rising to his cheeks. "She's a pretty one, she is."

"Of course," I drawled dryly before turning to drag Dean away somewhere. Before I could, though, a hand clapped itself upon my shoulder and I jumped, annoyance jolting me into place, before whirling around to look at the culprit.

Standing in front of the entrance of Quality Quidditch Supplies was Oliver Wood, his arms stacked to the brim with training manuals and a positively pleased expression on his face. My expression mirrored his, and it was like my earlier displeasure had drained away leaving in its place a lighthearted sensation.

"If it isn't Rhia! Thought it was you from inside the shop, and I was right." He smiled down at me and my cheeks turned pink from the close proximity.

Stepping back a bit, I sent the Quidditch Captain a small salute.

"Hullo, Oliver." I returned the grin toothily. "'Certainly been a while."

"Yeah, time flies by really fast, doesn't it? By the way, sorry for not replying to your letter," he rattled on, his tone taking on a sheepish edge. "Your owl flew off before I could attach the reply, see, and the family owl is out."

I strained to remember what I had written to him about, before I remembered that I had asked him about Divination and whether it was a worthwhile subject. Then again, I had already sent in my letter to the school, so it was fine nonethelenonetheless- though I had no idea how I forgot that I had sent Oliver a letter.

"That's alright," my shoulders lifted and sagged in a shrug. "Though out of curiosity, what were you going to tell me, anyway?"

"Well, for one," he started thoughtfully. "The professor's a right fraud," a chuckle escaped him as I let out a mock gasp, "but the key to doing well is to predict the most unfortunate and painful things that can happen to you."

"So what did you put? Like getting injured during training, or losing a match?" I wondered out loud, though somehow I suspected that I already knew the answer.

The very suggestion seemed to offend Oliver as a look of genuine horror crossed his features. "Never," he shuddered, responding so seriously that I couldn't help but smile. "Wouldn't ever risk jinxing that, not even if Trelawney gave me an 'O'."

"Looks like I would excel in it, in that case," I laughed at the subsequent poker-faced expression he took on. "Seems like I don't need to take that class after all, I already practice that on a daily basis."

Oliver chuckled at that, dark eyes glimmering with mirth. "Why, aren't you just a ray of sunshine?"

I casually went with the flow of the conversation.

"Well," I tapped my chin thoughtfully. "I light up your life, don't I?"

(Cue the punny background sound effects.)

"If you insist, Greenwood," he drawled coolly in response, looking amused. Then it was like something behind me caught his attention, for suddenly the corners of his lips tugged up in a smile and he raised a hand to wave at somebody.

"Over here, Alicia!" He called out. I froze upon hearing the name, feeling like a deer in headlights caught under Oliver's direct scrutiny. Groaning, I immediately ducked behind the Captain- thank goodness he was tall. Burly. Large enough to hide me from Alicia.

He wouldn't have that however, as he promptly slung an arm over me and steered me around to face the Chaser without skipping a beat.

I swallowed, eyes looking up to see Alicia after what felt like ages. I couldn't help but notice how very pretty she looked that afternoon. Her brown hair was even curled up into a neat little bun and she was dressed in a fashionable grey dress with matching pumps, which overall just plain flattered her figure. My face reddened and I inwardly cursed.

 _Bloody hell, how does she always look so adorable?_

"Don't fancy her, you say?" He muttered lowly into my ear in a what had to be a dragged-out tease and I glowered at him briefly before whipping my attention back to Alicia, who had stopped before us and was currently raising an eyebrow at our closeness.

"Look at who's getting all close and cuddly," she teased, sounding like she was cooing at the most adorable sight in the world. My heart sank and I blanched immediately, desperate to dispel that thought from her mind.

"W-wood here decided to steal away the position of best mate from Finnigan, since the git was too busy making faces at pretty girls." I blurted out in a deadpan. Alicia laughed at that and I couldn't help but take in a sharp intake of breath as she stepped forward to ruffle my hair.

(Merlin. How hard have I fallen, exactly? Someone _please_ save me.)

Moments later, the Chaser stepped away and at once, I found that I could breathe again.

"If you say so." She chirped, sending me a cheeky, not-so-knowing wink. Then she rounded on Oliver, hands jabbing at her hips like a scolding mother- hilarious, considering that the captain had to be at least two years older than her.

"Any sign that Rhia isn't happy and I'm setting the Chasers on you," she joked, though it sounded very much like a legitimate threat, before she waved easily and walked off in the direction she came from- with a flair only she could pull off, I might add.

Staring after her retreating figure and vaguely stammering out a goodbye, Oliver's laughing face quickly came into view.

"Stop that," I grumbled lowly, squirming away from him and crossing my arms across my chest, looking up at him through narrowed eyes. "Who said you could meddle with my love life anyway, captain?"

Oliver, as usual, looked highly amused. I was beginning to think that he enjoyed making fun of me as a hobby.

"Love life?" He questioned.

"Nonexistent love life," I corrected reluctantly, crossing my arms somewhat. "Merlin, this is why Dean is my favourite person."

To prove my point, I darted over to Dean and linked arms with him, sending Oliver a smug look and a grin. Merlin knows when I started acting so childishly- Seamus must have rubbed off on me in some way.

Oliver looked between the two of us with a quirked eyebrow.

"You wound me," he drawled out in mock-agony and I couldn't help but burst into laughter.

"Geez, Wood, it's your fault that she thinks we're… together, anyway," came my somewhat ticked off response as Oliver raised an eyebrow.

"I guess that would have bothered you," he shot me a glance, seeming to be at a lost for words. "Sorry 'bout that- didn't mean to ruin your chances with her, or anything ."

Awkwardly, he patted my back and I let out a small chuckle at the awkward situation that we inadvertently created.

"It's fine, captain- I just gotta try harder, right?" My lips split into a grin as I beamed up at him. "Hey, what did you buy though? That's a whole lot of training manuals..." I trailed off, grey eyes flitting over to examine the covers of some of the books he had.

That was not a sad attempt at steering the conversation in a different direction, I was actually interested in the pile of training manuals that Oliver was so fixated with.

"Some guides for proper training regimens and more strategy books- they included some strategies from some famous Quidditch teams like Puddlemere- " We exchanged a knowing glance and a grin at the mention. "I'm going to study them and work out some new formations- it's our last chance of getting the Cup."

The quiet, desperate wistfulness was present in his eyes, and it made my insides twist a little. ' _My last chance,'_ was left unsaid

Oliver cleared his throat, and I could've sworn that his dark eyes had taken on a misty quality. Sensing the transition as the Captain slipped back into business mode, he shook his head and clapped a hand on my shoulder. "Trials for the team start on the first week of school, don't forget."

"Could I try out for the reserve team again?" I blurted out, and he nodded.

My adamance to stay on the reserve team may have appeared strange to many- even I couldn't explain it. All I could gather from my conflicting feelings was that a great desire to contribute, to be of use to the team was overwhelming me; yet at the same time a burning feeling seized me as I entertained the thought of trying out for the main team and breaking apart the team that was already present- I wouldn't be able to forgive myself if I robbed someone more deserving of their position.

(' _How could I ever hope to measure up to any of them, anyway_?')

Of course, I had no way of voicing out these strange thoughts as something in me settled for the compromise that was the Reserve team.

For a while, Oliver stood in silence. It was like he was deep in contemplation, though over what in question would remain a mystery to me.

"I don't see why not, though you really should consider trying for the main team sometime," he finally stated, smiling before turning away and raising his hand in a gesture of farewell. "Got to go- I'll see you in school."

He glanced over his shoulder, dark eyes meeting my own grey ones. I beamed.

"Bye, captain." I returned the gesture, watching as Oliver quickly disappeared in the crowd in Diagon Alley.

My thoughts were whirling. Had he picked up on my hesitation? My fears? With him gone, I deemed it useless to debate about the matter any further and instead shook my head in a futile attempt to shake those thoughts away.

Turning back to Dean and Seamus, who finally seemed like he was back to normal (and had been scrutinising my exchange with Oliver, I might add.) He must have picked up on the fact that I was feeling merrier than usual (cough _Alicia_!) and was sending a suspicious look my way.

"We'd better be going, then," he cleared his throat uncomfortably, before speaking at last. "Where to?"

"Ice cream?" I suggested, and a knowing smile split over my face at how both of them simultaneously perked up at the mention of Florean Fortesques Ice Cream Parlour, a.k.a paradise. "Hah, called it. C'mon, let's go."

* * *

 **A/N:**

 **Alicia and Oliver are back! I don't want to resume the school year too quickly haha.**

 **Do leave a review and tell me what you think so far, feedback is welcome t** **oo! If you're like me and you just don't know what to say at times, even something as simple as telling me what you liked best about this chapter would be a great help to me:)**

 **Thanks for reading!**


	25. Chapter 24

Chapter Seven; Mischief Unmanaged

* * *

Seamus and Dean left a week later after deciding that they were likely intruding on my hospitality, despite my constant reassurances that they were very much welcomed here. I promised them that I would be fine on my own. Seamus lingered behind for a bit, hastily giving me a hug as he did so.

"Thanks for y'know-helping me out, Greenwood," he murmured awkwardly, a hand running through his sandy locks. Reaching up, my hand messed up his hair further, a smile growing on my face.

"Anytime," my grey eyes met his blue ones. "I'm here if you need someone to talk to, Finnigan."

Affectionately, I tugged Dean over, flicking both of them on their foreheads for being such adorable troublemakers. Protesting at the gesture, both of them stepped into the fireplace and Flooed away after waving, disappearing in a cloud of soot and acid green powder.

The atmosphere seemed to rapidly shift than before- the silence was once again growing deafening But I knew tha I would see them again once term started, without fail- surely, I could survive that much without them?

Trudging my way back to my room, I noted the red sealed envelope that I had written a while back and neglected to send out. The letter itself had definitely not gone forgotten, for the contents of what I had written had been on my mind for the past few weeks. It was more like I was having second doubts if what I was doing was the right thing.

My eyes fell on the two photos sitting on my table- one of which was of my mother and her friend, and the other was with the boy who I thought wad my father.

How far was I willing to go to secure a job as an Auror? How far was I willing to go to meet my father, and find out the truth?

Without thinking, I brought a hand to my mouth and whistled sharply. On cue, Quina came soaring into the room from her perch on the balcony. Her bright yellow eyes surveyed me critically as I gave her the envelope and stroked her feathers gently.

"Bring this to Professor McGonagall, please." I managed before I could chicken out. Quina stared at me empathetically with those yellow eyes before taking off, as if she had sensed my inner turmoil.

(Little did I know, the arrival Deamus wouldn't be the last surprising turn of events.)

.

Mom was calling for me.

"Sweetie, go get changed. The Weasleys have invited us over for dinner."

I perked up at the mention of the family of redheads, nearly falling over my chair in my bid to go change hurriedly.

"It would be preferable if your limbs remained intact in the process, Rhiannon," my mother remarked dryly, and I glowed in embarrassment before hurrying to get changed, pulling on black leggings and a white dress. Stuffing my wand in a side pocket and slipping on a black cardigan, I pulled my hair into a side-ponytail before stepping to join my mother in front of the fireplace.

At my her behest, I reached out and gingerly pinched some of the glimmering green Floo powder, before looking up at her expectantly.

"I have to go finish up some work, so you'll be heading there first. They live at the Burrow," she emphasised the 'Burrow', as if willing me to drill it into memory. "Remember now, say it loud and clear…"

Throwing down the Floo powder into the fire, I stepped in, calling out the name in what I hoped was a clear and concise manner.

"The Burrow!"

The world around me seemed to spin and distort as the horrible feeling of being sucked away enveloped me. Soon I materialised in another fireplace entirely, which led me to furiously brush soot off my leggings as I tentatively stepped out of the fireplace.

In a stark contrast to the Manor, the Burrow was lively, to put it plainly, with the clanging of pots and pans filling the air along with a kitchen filled with clutter.

It didn't take long for me to realise that my appearance had not gone unnoticed.

"Black hair-"

"A midget-"

"Could it be, George?"

"B-But look at the dress!"

"Who are you and what have you done to Greenwood?"

Turning to see two identical redheads grinning down at me, a laugh escaped me as a grin quickly spread over my face. Then I gave them my best doe-eyed expression, choosing to stare up at Fred (I may or may not have tried to mimic Lavender Brown.)

"Why, if it isn't Fred-dy and George-y!" I squealed, my voice nearly cracking from the effort, fluttering my lashes and resisting the urge to burst out in giggles.

"Merlin, it really _is_ an imposter!"

"Red alert, red alert!"

"Notify the Aurors- "

"- stop that, you two," a voice cut in crossly.

Looking up, my eyes took in the woman who was Molly Weasley- currently shr was levitating some pots effortlessly with her wand. I stiffened, feeling somewhat intimidated, until she turned towards me with a warm smile. "Rhia, dear, it's good to finally meet you. Is your mother on the way?"

Nodding dumbly, I looked on, feeling at a loss of what to do. It had been a while since I last went over to someone else's home. It had been exciting as a child, but now it was simply just awkward for me.

"Would you be a dear and carry these plates out to where the table is?"

I hurriedly attempted to shake off my out-of-place feelings before I hurried to retrieve the said plates from a nearby counter. Though I may not be great in new social situations, I at least knew my way around housework. Hastily following the twins out of the house, J nearly dropped the plates as I caught sight of a tiny blur of red hair which abruptly tackled me from behind.

My heart melted, however at the sight of the familiar young girl.

"How's it going, Ginny?" I asked, setting down the plates and moving to return the hug.

This year had definitely been a terrifying one for me, but if I had it bad, Ginny had it worst- she had been possessed by none other than You-Know-Who himself. The youngest Weasley looked better than she had in months- the color was returning to her cheeks, giving it a healthy flush and her brown eyes looked more alive than it had been the past year. She looked up at me, the corners of her lips curling up just the slightest.

"I've been- okay, I guess." Ginny stated softly, looking hesitant. I realised that she wasn't meeting my eyes, and I regretted reminding her of the incidents that occurred last year. A tinge of concern nagged away at me at the vague reply, but I was quickly whisked away. Making out the irritatingly identical faces of Fred and George, my scowl deepened upon catching sight of their bloody triumphant expressions.

"Can't I just have a sodding conversation without being interrupted in any form?" I threw up my arms in annoyance, throwing back an apologetic glance at Ginny.

"No can do, young Greenwood."

Fred shook his head and wagged his finger, tut-tutting as he did so. He leaned in with a small grin.

"We dislike accomplishing the unaccomplishable just as much as you like asking for it." George added on.

"Was that supposed to make sense?" I deadpanned, sending them a flat expression.

"Aww, ickle Rhia is angwy, George-y! What ever shall we do?" Fred's voice rang out theatrically, sounding disgustingly high-pitched. He met my glower and winked, showing no sign that the either of them was going to stop.

Merlin, anything but the bloody baby talk.

I was saved, however as Mom showed up shortly after. She coolly raised an eyebrow at the sight of me looking dishevelled and mildly irritated as she sat myself at the seat opposite me, next to Mrs Weasley.

"I thought good things were supposed to come in pairs- and Fred, I do _not_ sound like that," I sniffed as the said redhead shot me another mischievous grin.

Dinner soon started, along with the revelation that _bloody hell Mrs Weasley was a brilliant cook._

Between mouthfuls of delicious stew, I eyed the prankster duo who had set off in the other direction in search of a new victim (aka Ron.) My mom watched bemusedly at the loud flatulence noise that ripped through the room the moment Ron rejoined us at the table, the tip of his ears turning red. He picked up the offending object and tossed it at his twin brothers, looking highly embarrassed.

"We went snooping around in this Muggle toy shop, see." George whispered, carelessly catching the object that Ron had discarded. Inching over in my chair in an attempt to catch sight of the mysterious fart-emitting device, it didn't quite work out as Fred noticed me and raised it above my reach.

"Interested?" He teased, grinning at me. I scowled on impulse and crossed my arms in denial.

"No," I protested adamantly. "What makes you say that?"

His grin only widened.

"Tut tut, it's no good to lie, young lady." With that, he tossed over the object and my hands shot up to catch them at once, thanks to my Chaser reflexes.

"What is this?" I questioned, not even bothering to squash my curiosity now as my eyes squinted at the round object in my grasp.

"They call it a Whoopee Cushion," Fred mock-whispered, laying the dramatics on thickly.

"Funny how the Muggles don't know that it sounds like a fart and not a 'Whoopie'- " George stated in response with a hint of a snicker. On cue, both of them shrugged at the weird word. "- whatever that is, of course."

I threw up my hands, mildly thrown off by how in sync they were.

"Wouldn't Whoopie refer to a brand name or something? Like Filibuster's Fireworks, or Zonko's?"

"Definitely not, how could they be a company if all we saw in the shop were fart cushions?"

"Dunno, maybe they have other stuff under a different name."

"That doesn't make sense!"

"Muggles," they sighed, shrugging and I rolled my eyes. How we ended up in an intense discussion about Muggle goods and the mystery that were Whoopie Cushions, I had no idea. It was obvious tha the discussion at hand had attracted the attention of Mr Weasley, however, as he turned towards us, eager to join the conversation. I took this as a cue to continue shoving food in my mouth.

The table groaned under the added weight of the food that Mrs Weasley had single-handedly whipped up and I felt myself zoning out amidst all the chatter. It was altogether a strange experience- I've only ever experienced the formal dinners where I was clad in a uniform, from when I was in Beauxbatons and even when I was in Hogwarts.

On the other hand, I also remembered being dolled up to sit through banquets and the occasional dinner at the Malfoys. The atmosphere now was nowhere as stiff and awkward as the dinners back then. Meals ended quickly and were served in courses, as even the dishes of second helpings were swept away within minutes- eating too much was frowned upon.

On the other hand, if there was a record for the largest amount of food eaten in thirty minutes, I was certain we would have clinched the top prize with no difficulty whatsoever.

Ginny nudged me then, giggling somewhat as I realised that I had nearly dozed off. Embarrassed, I sat up with a start, cheeks turning pink as I nervously laughed and listened in on the ongoing conversation between Fred, George and Ron.

Suddenly, Mrs Weasley cleared her throat lightly and I nearly laughed when Percy puffed out his chest and straightened in rapt attention, glasses perching on his freckle-dusted nose.

"We have quite a lovely piece of news we want to tell you, Amanda," she stated before eyeing Mr Weasley expectantly. The jovial man caught the hint and straightened, leaning in closer to the table as he did so, eyes gleaming in excitement.

"We're going on holiday to Egypt next week," he revealed. My eyes met Fred's and a grin tugged at the corners of his lips. I raised an eyebrow as he leaned in slightly, whispering into my ear in clarification.

"Dad won the lottery. We'll be in Egypt for a whole month."

" _Wicked_ ," I responded, chuckling silently as Ron whipped back towards us at the sound of his catchphrase being imitated. Fred cackled at the impression which prompted me to turn back to him, a smile growing on my features. "On a more serious note, go have fun, will you?"

He seemed to have taken that to heart, because two weeks later, I got a letter from Ginny who enthusiastically went on and on about how Fred and George had attempted to shut Percy into a tomb- and I couldn't help but think that he would have fit in with the exhibits for sure, considering how very illuminating he was as a person.

* * *

.

Quina returned that night. It was a pleasant surprise that she brought home an envelope that had the Hogwarts crest neatly printed over the envelope in red wax.

However, I was sorely sisappointed to find that it was only a letter enclosing the list of books I would need this year:

 _Dear Ms Greenwood,_

 _Please note that the new school year will begin on September the first. The Hogwarts Express will leave from King's Cross Station, platform nine and three-quarters, at eleven o' clock._

 _Third years are permitted to visit the village of Hogsmeade at certain weekends. Plese give the enclosed permission form to your parent or guardian to sign._

 _A list of books for next year is enclosed._

 _Yours sincerely,_

 _Professor M. McGonagall_

 _Deputy Headmistress._

 _._

 _At least there's Hogsmeade visits,_ I told myself, but the feeling in my chest remained glum and disappointed at the lack of response to the letter I sent in particular.

As I shook open the pieces of parchment, however, a third piece fluttered out and I immediately fumbled to unfurl it, eyes widening as they flitted over the words of the letter.

.

 _Ms Greenwood,_

 _Please report to my office immediately after the Feast in order the discuss the contents of your previous letter._

 _Enjoy the rest of your holiday._

 _Signed, M. McGonagall_

 _._

Staring unbelievingly at the parchment, silence befell me as my eyes widened- was I actually this _lucky_?

A spirited feeling of joy bubbled within me, making me feel like floating.

Punching the air at this small success at the fact that I actually scored a meeting with the Professor, a hopeful feeling rose within me at what this meeting could bring about for me- better chances to get into the Auror Academy.

Quina was looking at me blankly, her yellow eyes clearly judgemental, something that I took great (mock) offense to. I ignored her in favour of stowing the parchment back in the envelope.

"Phase one has gone underway," I said to no one in particular, beaming, still very much in disbelief that I wasn't flat out denied.

Reorganising my letters, a delighted laugh escaped me at the sight of a _very_ familiar family greeting me on the cover page of the Daily Prophet, with great pyramids taking their places in the background, grinning up at the camera like they were having the best time of their lives.

As Pattie appeared to bring the newspaper to Mom for her evening reading, I couldn't help but shoot another glance at the happy family as the Prophet was whisked away- though I would never say it out loud, I felt just a tad bit envious of them for a strange, brief moment.

.

* * *

A/N:

Bonding time with the Weasleys, and some plot/foreshadowing if you squint;)

I personally am a fan of Rhia's friendship with Gred and Forge. I don't think the twins were given any hint that she could tell them apart before this chapter- so it was really fun to write about them teasing the lil midget.

Don't forget to leave a review telling me about what you think of this chapter! As always, thanks for reading:)

-C


	26. Chapter 25

Chapter Eight; Unexpected

I hoisted my new school items around, one hand balancing various parcels while the other was clutched at the yellowed school book list. Squinting and mentally cursing the minuscule handwriting, a scowl crossed my face as somewhere behind, Mom was looking bemused at my suffering.

"No," came my refusal of her offer of help for what had to be the umpteenth time.

It had been a while since we had some mother-daughter time together. Mom finally got a day off work promptly brought me out to shop for the new school year, something I was overjoyed to comply with.

We had been at Florean's when the ominous message came.

Mom had just finished paying for an towering cone of ice cream and had just exited the shop when her eyes widened at the sight of a brilliant, silver lynx gliding in the air towards us.

A couple passers-by stopped to gape at the magnificent sight and I couldn't help but gape a little myself. This could only be the Patronus Charm- an extremely difficult charm that seemed to gain power from the happy memories and the purity of your character.

The lynx stopped in midair and beckoned for us (or rather, my mother) to follow it. It led us to a considerably more deserted alleyway before it opened its mouth to deliver its message. The voice that we heard spoke slowly, with a deep voice that was calm yet reassuring.

The message itself was terribly alarming, however.

'Sirius Black has escaped from Azkaban,' it spoke, taking on a warning tone. 'The Ministry has requested for all Heads of Department to return to their posts immediately. An emergency meeting will be held in thirty minutes.'

There was a still, shocked silence as I watched what little colour was left in my mother's face drain at the mention of Sirius Black.

"Mom? What's going on?" I frowned, the beginnings of unease forming in the pits of my stomach. 'Who's Sirius Black?' was the underlying question.

"I'll explain later, sweetie." She said, looking me in the eye intently. A hand reached out to tuck a strand behind my ear, the warmth of her hand fleeting. "I have to Apparate to the Ministry immediately- go home right away, got it? We'll go out again some other time. Be careful."

Giving me a hasty peck on my forehead, she pushed the ice cream cone into my hand and did me the favour of tying up my packages (despite my earlier protests) before Disapparating with a graceful turn of her heels. I stared at the now-empty spot, confusion swirling in my mind. Absentmindedly, I finished the ice cream before wearily picking up my parcels to begin on the long walk back to the Leaky Cauldron. The sweet dessert melted in the inside of my mouth, but I felt none of the promised comfort.

That was when I turned the corner, catching sight of pale blonde hair and faltering in my footsteps.

Draco Malfoy stood in the middle of the road, accompanied by a familiar woman I knew to be Narcissa Malfoy. My eyes hardened as his eyes met mine in a harsh clash of grey.

The mutual hostility hung thick in the air, though the silence was quickly broken by Narcissa's questioning.

"Rhiannon," The older woman greeted, causing me to shift around awkwardly. I was instinctively intimidated by the familiar choking air of superiority that surrounded the Malfoys- even if Lucius Malfoy, the head of his family himself was not present.

(On that note, I should be glad that he wasn't there. The last I remembered of him, he had a glare that was akin to prickles of ice, and a stick up his ass.)

Narcissa Malfoy, from what I knew about her was a woman of both looks and wits. With sleek blonde hair and sharp features accentuated modest dashes of makeup, her lips were painted a shocking red which seemed to serve no purpose except to bring out the fairness of her skin. The clothes she wore were tasteful, unlike most expensive clothing, and there was a quiet confidence in her every poise and gesture. My thoughts were interrupted as Narcissa stepped forward and enveloped me in a small hug- one I wasn't expecting to receive. "It has been so long since you last visited us, dear."

"Good afternoon, Mrs Malfoy," Instinctively, I stiffened under the contact, smiling amiably in an attempt to get rid of the overwhelming awkwardness. Briefly, I wondered if she was aware of the fact that Malfoy and I were no longer on speaking terms.

'Don't ask stupid questions,' a voice from within chided. 'Isn't it obvious? Of course she knows.'

Narcissa smiled down at me, her eyes a tad bit warmer than usual and I wondered what spurred this display of affection. The woman had always treated me like one of her own; on the other hand I had no idea what I did to deserve such acceptance from her Noticing the ringing silence at last, she then turned towards Draco, proceeding to goad him lightly.

"Draco," she coaxed. "Why don't you say hello to Rhiannon?"

An uncomfortable expression displayed itself on his pointed features, and he mildly looked like he was being forced to stick his hand into the mouth of a Grindylow. Did I react as awkwardly? Probably.

A few moments of awkward silence, the boy finally gathered his wits, sending me a stiff nod.

"Greenwood."

It sounded like something was stuck in his throat.

"Malfoy." I responded curtly. I liked to think that I was at the very least more mature than him, however this small interaction between us did nothing to help my case. With that obligatiry greeting gone, my mind wandered back to its original train of thoughts.

Narcissa's kindness towards me was always confusing, considering that I was certain that she normally had a pronounced look of distaste whenever she was with anyone who was not part of an elitist Pureblood family. In that instant, it seemed that she felt the growing tension between us for she promptly spoke once more.

"Where is Amanda? You're not alone, are you?" She said, tone laced with concern. Shrugging would have been rude, and thus resulting in a clumsy attempt on my part to form a coherent reply.

"She had a call from the Ministry, I think?" I cringed at my own uncertainty, before quoting. "The message mentioned a 'Sirius Black'..."

Trailing off, I looked up to see the woman deep in thought.

"I see," was all she said before she smiled at me once more, the smile looking strange amidst her haughty features. The gleam to her eyes was uncannily unreadable. "We will be going now- I am glad to see you well, Rhiannon."

Smiling and somewhat caught off-guard, I nodded dumbly and thanked her, a small smile forming on my lips. Watching as she put her coat around Draco's shoulders as the pair of them walked away, I couldn't help but smile at Narcissa's innate protectiveness over her son.

Wincing, my arms had a burning sensation as I bent over to pick up the parcels, but much to my surprise, the parcels seemed to be much lighter than before.

A Featherlight Charm? Narcissa really did me a favour.

Squinting at the retreating back of the Malfoys, a sense of puzzlement befell me as their pale blonde hair faded put of sight. I made to turn away and begin the trip home.

My family had a falling out with the Malfoys sometime before I came to Hogwarts, but what was the real reason?

.

ಠxಠ

.

"Wait, what? Harry Potter blew up his aunt?"

At the news, my mouth fell open. The quiet, black-haired Boy-Who-Lived never seemed to be the type to hurt someone on purpose, much less use accidental magic. Mom cleared up her dishes with a flick of her wand, already moving to head to work. The dishes disappeared and she refocused her efforts in straightening her office-clothes and tightening the elegant bun she possessed.

"That was exactly what happened," she commented dryly. "He did accidental magic, he ran away, Fudge is losing his head over this, you know the rest."

She said all that like she was casually filing her nails. I gaped, feeling slightly amused.

Why in the name of Merlin was someone like Mom working in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement? She worked under Amelia Bones, a friend she knew from her Hogwarts days, but I imagine that life in the office still had to bore her out of her mind.

"It's not _that_ boring- you get young lads blowing up their aunts," she smiled, amusedly flicking her gaze at me, chuckling at how taken aback I was. Had she just used Legilimency on me or something?

Mom looked at me, an eyebrow raised. "No, sweetie, I just know you that well." Upon hearing that, I threw up my arms in surrender. People who could read other people terrified me, and Mom was no exception.

"You haven't told me about Sirius Black yet," I decided to point out. Something about her eyes seem to darken at the mention of he name, before she sighed and relented, tossing back her head of dark hair.

"Sirius Black," she began. "was a mass murderer. Thirteen years ago, he betrayed the Potters and gave their location to You-Know-Who. After which, he blew up a street, killing Muggles and even his friend Peter Pettigrew."

With a wave of her wand, the Daily Prophet zigzagged out of her purse and levitated before me. I took the paper with shaking arms and took in the image of a man with long black hair laughing like a maniac as the street around him was plummeted in smoke and debris.

What bothered me, however, wasn't his crazed appearance. Something about Sirius Black looked eeriely familiar, even though I was confident that this was the first time I had ever seen him before.

.

ಠxಠ

.

The gloom that hung around the Greenwood Manor stuck around for the remainder of the holidays. With a sort of wistfulness, I recalled being in Beauxbatons only two years ago, stuck in a stuffy uniform, trying to get by with my sub-par French and sticking out like a sore thumb. It felt like so long ago that I had poured out my heart in a letter to my mother, thanking her for bringing me back to Britain and gushing about all my mew friends.

Double-checking that I had everything, I made to set out for King's Cross station. Pattie intercepted me as I was halfway out the door, her tiny hands jabbed into where her hips were.

"There will be no need lug your trunk around, young Mistress. Mistress has ordered me to accompany you to this- Platform 9 and Three Quarters." She wrinkled her nose at that and I smiled easily.

We ended up apparating into a deserted alley and walking to the train station. I was about to ask Pattie how she could just walk around so freely when I realised that I was the one garnering majority of the stares.

'Right, she must be invisible to Muggles,' I reasoned. It was when my eyes catch sight of a familiar figure skulking ahead did I speak to her, trying not to appear like I was talking to myself..

"I see a friend, Pattie. May I go over?"

She took that as a sign that she no longer needed to accompany me. Uttering a goodbye, she bowed witha final sniff of her nose and disappeared with a loud 'crack!'. Promptly I quickened my pace, pushing my trunk forward and beaming as I took in a round face and soft, cherubic-looking features.

"Hey, Neville!" I smiled at him, feeling relieved that I wouldn't have to run through the barrier alone. Neville looked at me, eyes widening, but at his subdued expression I noticed the elderly woman who walked beside him with her head high. The old lady was donning a hat and a bright red handbag- hell, was that a stuffed vulture?

Vaguely recalling Neville moaning about his 'Gran sending him Howlers' every time he neglected to bring a textbook to school, it dawned on me that this severe-looking woman could only be his grandmother.

I beamed at her, feeling unsure of how I should address her, before I settled for the standard, fail-safe greeting. "Good afternoon, Mrs Longbottom."

Augusta Longbottom turned to me. I felt terrified in spite of myself- Neville had good reason to fear her. In spite of her age, she did not seem the least bit frail- or rather, she seemed more formidable more than anything; it was like she could had a walking stick to beat someone into submission rather than to help her walk. She was thin, bony, and definitely taller than me.

"Why, hello there." Her eyes narrowed, and distinctly I got the impression that i was being heavily scrutinised.

Turning to Neville sharply, she spoke. Inwardly I winced at her sharp, chastising tone.

"Where are your manners, boy? Say hello to your friend."

Neville seemed to shrink more than ever. Evidently, I had caught him at a bad time as the pale-looking boy walked on, his gaze seemingly glued to the floor.

"Hello, Rhia." He mumbled under his breath. I smiled at him awkwardly, wanting to offer comfort but deciding against doing it in front of his grandmother.

"Amd what might your name be?" Augusta spoke, her sharp gaze fixing onto me sharply.

"Rhiannon Greenwood, ma'am," I responded, inclining my head out of habit. "I'm from Gryffindor, like Neville. It's nice to meet you."

Augusta was squinting at me now, as if she was trying to detect even the smallest bit of sarcasm in my tone. Apparently she detected none, for she turned away and proceeded to bark out another question without a bat of her eye.

"Greenwood? That family's supposed to have died out," the elderly woman stated, a frown appearing amidst her wrinkled features. "What are the names of your parents?"

"I'm not sure about Dad, but my Mom's first name is Amanda," I said, trying to search through my memory to see if Mom had ever mentioned Dad's name. She never did, now that I thought of it, which was befuddling- all I remembered her saying was that he was an Auror. My family history was strange, disconnected and distant, and admittedly, I was under the impression that they had separated at some point.

"Amanda?" Augusta's eyes suddenly seemed to glint. "From Hogwarts, I take it. And a Ravenclaw, too."

My surprise must have been evident, for the elderly woman chuckled unexpectedly. "I remember the days where Frank was hopelessly chasing after your mother. Always said that she wasn't interested in a relationship, your mother, even with bucketloads of suitors crawling up behind her. That was before he met Alice, of course," she added upon catching a glimpse of my expression. I could've sworn I saw her sigh with what had to be exasperation as she recounted stories about this 'Frank'. Now that I thought of it, he could only be Neville's father.

"I see we're already here. Why don't you let the young lady go first, Neville?"

Feeling a bit abashed, I let out a small chuckle. "I don't mind going after you and Neville, ma'am, I'm hardly considered a lady."

"No, no, you go on ahead. I want to have a word with my grandson." She insisted. Seeing as any further protest would be rude, I simply thanked her and ran through the barrier, heaving my trunk past the brick wall and materialising on the other side later, feeling heartened at the sight of the Hogwarts Express in all its glory.

Mere moments after I stopped running, Neville materialised, with the notable absence of his grandmother and his pale cheeks now tinged with a rosy pink.

"What happened?" Curiosity overcame me. Neville spared me a glance and seemed to turn even more red than before, if that was even humanly possible.

"I- I swear! It's n-not what you're thinking!" He sputtered out, looking horrified. "Gran got the wrong idea, that's all."

My cheeks turned pink as I picked up on the implications of that statement. "Oh."

I didn't pursue the topic and thankfully, the awkward silence was broken when someone tackled me from behind, causing me to nearly bowl over.

"If it isn't Rh-ia~ " The voice beside my ear was familiar, and I nearly fainted when I recognised the voice.

My voice came out sounding like a bloody mouse. "T-that you, Alicia?"

I cursed inwardly. Die, traitorous stutter. Now I was an inch nearer to dying from embarrassment.

"You got that right. I would recognise that adorable mug anywhere." I could already picture Alicia's blindingly brilliant grin as she said that.

My eyes nearly rolled over to the high heavens, but then I remembered who I was talking to. Instead I let out a laugh, satisfied with how casual my voice came off as.

"So what's up, Alicia?"

"Nothing much. Other than me nagging you about bad subject combinations," she caught sight of my expression and laughed. "Just joking. Angelina and the others were wondering if you wanted to sit with us in the carriage."

"Sorry, I can't." I declined automatically, not because I didn't like them (the opposite was in fact more than applicable), but because I would die if I had to sit in the same carriage with the revered seniors of the Quidditch team for more than an hour- did I even need to mention the fact that Alicia would be there? "I gotta find my mates- I'll drop by, though." I offered instead, beaming at the pretty Gryffindor Chaser.

"Aw," she said, sounding disappointed,(which made my pathetic heart soar) though she grinned at the mention of me dropping by. "Sure, I'm fine with that. See you later, young Greenwood."

With a wink, she turned and skipped away, and all I could think off was how much Fred and George had rubbed off on her.

.

* * *

 **A/N:**

More family history revealed, perhaps? Feel free to share your theories with me!

rycmika: Nope, Snape is not Rhia's father. He's actually Amanda's cousin! Glad you liked the chapter, though.

What was your favourite part of the chapter? Let me know in the reviews, I really value your feedback.

-C


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